


put a hole in my hand (to see you)

by SummerFrost



Series: fuck it, i love you [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Accidental Outing, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breathplay, Choking, Coming Out, Coming Untouched, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Found Family, Internalized Homophobia, Light BDSM, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Devil Reveal, M/M, Polyamory Negotiations, aka Trixie walks in on them having sex, also uhhhhh, but Dan is a Parent about it and it turns out fine, but speaking of sex :D, canon near-death experiences?, idk it feels like something you should tag for but theres no tag for it, two for the price of one!, via mid-season 2 events, with vastly different outcomes (:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 20:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21167210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerFrost/pseuds/SummerFrost
Summary: Jesus Christ, Dan basically just told Chloe that she should fuck his boyfriend.Or: Dan gets it, that Chloe and Lucifer were basically made for each other. He just wants a little more time.





	put a hole in my hand (to see you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Verbyna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verbyna/gifts).

> Welcome to part 2 of what I expect will be a 3 part series! I've lost control of my life! You could probably read this without reading the first fic, but I do think there's something to be gained by going in order.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to the endlessly wonderful soundslikepenance/Verbyna, whose entire fault it is that I wrote this in the first place, and also fed me _delightful_ headcanons that made this fic what it is. They also beta'd!
> 
> Fic title from Hole in my Hand by Benjamin Francis Leftwich, which is a whole-ass mood for this fic and also the series as a whole.

Dan's hanging out with Ella while they wait for her DNA analysis software to finish running, debating whether or not he could invite her to his improv show next week without her blabbing to Chloe, when Lucifer sweeps into the lab with a beverage caddy and an upbeat grin on his face.

"Good morning, Miss Lopez," he says, kissing her on the cheek while he sets a coffee down on her desk.

Ella gives him a giant hug, making him lift the remaining coffees above his head to avoid disaster. "Aww, thanks, buddy!"

Dan pushes away from the table he's leaning on, about to say hello and maybe go for a friendly fist bump or something, when Lucifer spanks him on the ass with gusto.

"Good morning, darling," he teases, voice going all sing-song as he's slipping the coffee cup into Dan's hand. "Did you sleep well?"

He vanishes out the other door before Dan can answer. Or kill him.

"Dude, I'm so glad you and Lucifer are friends again!" Ella says warmly, without irony. "It sucked when you were fighting."

"Uh, yeah." Dan is watching Lucifer give the second to last coffee to Chloe, who smiles and touches his arm. "We're friends."

Ella comes up next to him and asks, "Do you think they're banging?"

Dan nearly drops his coffee. "What?"

"Chloe and Lucifer,  _ duh."  _ Ella gestures at them. Lucifer is messing with those physics beads on Chloe's desk and aiming a shit-eating grin at her; she rolls her eyes and grabs them out of his hand. 

"Uh, no," says Dan. "I don't think they're banging."

Ella says, "Oh, man, I totally just put my foot in my mouth, didn't I? Is it weird for you still, 'cause of the divorce?"

Dan has stubble burn on his collarbone; it itches under his shirt.

"Nope," he says. "Not weird because of the divorce."

"Lucifer just seems so  _ happy  _ lately, doesn't he?" Ella insists. "Something's going on, I can tell."

Dan turns to her, surprised. "Does he?"

Ella gestures towards Lucifer, who's still smiling, which—

There's a part of Dan that just wants to say it, like, so fucking badly. Like, not even on the level of,  _ 'he's grinning like that because I sucked his brain out through his dick before I left for work this morning,'  _ necessarily, because TMI, but—

It'd be nice. To be able to talk with someone besides Tom from improv about the fact that Lucifer kissed him goodbye, and promised to bring him coffee to make up for keeping him up late, and actually did it.

Speaking of which, Dan takes a sip, and—

Yeah, there's definitely booze in here.

It's the thought that counts?

"Hey, Ella," Dan says abruptly. "Totally unrelated question."

Ella takes a sip of her coffee, makes a face, and then takes another sip. Dan will warn her about that in a second. "Sure, bud, what's up?"

"You're, uh, you're Catholic, right?" asks Dan.

"Sure am!" Ella holds up the cross around her neck, running a thumb over it fondly. "Why, are you?"

Dan says, "My parents are. So, how do you—I mean, you don't have a problem with Luce—Lucifer being, you know—into dudes?"

"Of course not!" Ella looks genuinely hurt, furrowing her eyebrows. "Look, I know a lot of people use the Big Guy to try and justify all the shitty stuff they do, but the way I see it? He said we're supposed to love each other, and take  _ care  _ of each other. It doesn't matter how, or with who."

"Oh." Dan breathes out, feeling his chest loosen. "I—that's… okay."

Ella slides back over to her computer and glances at him sideways.  _ "You  _ don't have a problem with it, do you?"

"What? No, I—" Dan fights the urge to laugh like a total weirdo. "I guess I just—I mean, my parents, you know. They'd never call themselves hateful, but…"

Ella makes air quotes. "'Traditional.'"

"Exactly."

"Mine too," Ella tells him. "I took a long time to figure out my own relationship to God, but they get that now."

Dan clears his throat, looking down. "That's—uh, that's good."

Ella hesitates, then says, "Hey," softly. "My church here in LA is really great, if you ever wanna go."

Dan glances behind him, eyes settling on Lucifer. He's still got his suit jacket on and Dan wants to slip it off his shoulders, ruin the starch-pressed creases of his shirt.

"I'll think about it," he says. "Thank you."

~*~

"Hey," Dan says. "You can't spike people's coffee at ten in the morning, you know. Like, it's important to me that you know that."

"Duly noted," Lucifer purrs. He rocks up against Dan's thigh, pressing him more firmly into the row of shelves behind them. "And what's your stance on sex in the file room?"

"Terrible idea," Dan tells him, and undoes the buttons on his shirt.

~*~

"I did have something I wanted to ask you, actually," Lucifer says while Dan is fixing his hair. He pops a stick of gum into his mouth and offers the pack to Dan. 

Dan takes a piece of gum and gestures with it for Lucifer to go ahead.

"Humans seem quite fond of monogamy these days," Lucifer ventures. "Would you prefer it?"

_ Oh,  _ Dan thinks.  _ He does know that word. _

He bites his gum in half between his teeth, buying time, then answers, "I guess I figured it wasn't on the table. I mean, you slept with like ninety people in two months, man."

Lucifer frowns, glancing down at his shirt while he re-does the first button. "Yes, but if it  _ were?" _

Dan thinks about watching Lucifer dance with those strangers, or the way it feels to watch him light up talking to Chloe. How important those moments are, even if Dan isn't a part of them.

"I like seeing you happy," he says, running his hand up Lucifer's arm. "I don't need to be the only reason."

Lucifer smiles, laughing fast and softly. He pulls Dan into a kiss and murmurs, "Thank you."

Dan leans up to press their foreheads together. "Just don't bail on me to get laid if we’ve got plans, okay?"

Lucifer kisses him again before pulling away, smacking Dan lightly on the ass—which is apparently their thing now.

"You have my word." He opens the door a crack and peeks out into the hallway. "Coast is clear, darling. Shall we get to work?"

~*~

Dan pulls the curtain back enough to sneak a peek at the audience, scanning—

Lucifer is in the front row, dressed in that maroon suit that's honestly just unfair, and chatting up Irene's sister, Chelsea. He's holding flowers, which he almost smacks Chelsea in the face with when he catches sight of Dan and tries to wave.

Dan's stupid heart does a flip. He wasn't even sure he'd invite Luce—and even less sure than that that he'd actually  _ come,  _ let alone sit front and center with—

"Which one is he?" Tom asks, stacking his chin on top of Dan's head like they're in a cartoon.

Dan waves at Lucifer, effectively pointing him out to Tom, who wolf-whistles quietly and pulls Dan back behind the curtain. "Damn, kid,  _ respect." _

Dan rolls his eyes, but it's not like he can argue. His—is Lucifer his  _ boyfriend? _ It feels like a word you should age out of or something, which—wait, what was Dan saying? His boyfriend is here to watch his show and he brought fucking flowers, and Dan feels, like, three times as nervous as he did before. 

"Did you freak out the first time Sun came to one of these?" Dan asks, wiping his palms on his jeans.

"Almost passed out in the bathroom." Tom pats Dan on the back in sympathy. "I don't recommend it."

Dan nods faintly.

The exterior curtains draw back and Rachel, their coach, walks onstage to introduce the show. Tom is up with Irene for the first scene, so he needs to move into position.

"Hey," he whispers, jerking his head towards his mark. "He's gonna love it."

Considering how this went last time, Dan's not sure.

~*~

"Daniel!" Lucifer shouts as he makes his way through the crowd. "That was actually quite good!"

Dan winces. At least it was—wait, that  _ was  _ technically a compliment.

"Uh, thanks, man," he says, fingers crinkling against the plastic wrapping around the bouquet Lucifer hands him. It looks expensive, whether it is or not, like everything Lucifer touches. "I thought, uh—I was worried you wouldn't like it."

Lucifer asks, "Why would you think that?"

"Because you said it was a stupid hobby last time, dude," Dan reminds him.

"Oh, well, I  _ am  _ capable of admitting when I'm wrong," Lucifer answers, which is actually really mature of— "However infrequently it occurs."

There it is.

Dan rolls his eyes and changes the subject, looking down at his flowers again.

"You know," he says, "you didn't have to do all this."

Lucifer furrows his eyebrows. "But you just gave a performance. I thought it was customary to bring your lover flowers after these things?"

Okay,  _ 'lover'  _ is just as weird as  _ 'boyfriend' _ for directly opposite reasons. But that's a sidenote compared to—

Dan traces his thumb over the ribbon tying the wrapping together, rotating the bouquet in his hand and noticing the way some of the roses still have droplets of water on them and how it feels so foreign to be holding them—like he's supposed to be passing them off to someone else.

"Pretty sure no one's ever given me flowers before," he realizes, looking up at Luce and quirking his lips shakily. 

If you'd asked, he'd have said he didn't want them.

There must be something on his face, because Lucifer's eyes soften and scan the room before dropping to Dan's mouth. It's pretty loud in the auditorium, but Lucifer takes a step in closer to murmur, "Right. Well, I'm glad we've fixed that."

Dan looks around too. There's no one here who he cares about seeing him, and all of a sudden it feels like the most important thing he could be doing to reach up and whisper, "Thank you," into their kiss, the roses pressed between their bodies.

Lucifer smiles against Dan's lips and kisses him again, flicking his tongue—

Someone coughs pointedly from behind Dan, and he whips around with a sharp sense of embarrassment before realizing who it is.

"Sorry to interrupt," says Tom. He's standing with his husband, holding his own bouquet of flowers. "But we wanted to see if you'd join us for dinner?"

"Oh, hey!" Dan rests a hand on the small of Lucifer's back. "Luce, this is Tom and Sun. Guys, this is—"

"Lucifer Morningstar." Lucifer steps forward and shakes both of their hands with a winning smile. "Pleasure to meet you."

Tom raises an eyebrow at Dan that basically says,  _ 'Really? That's his name?' _

"Tom," Lucifer says, "I heard you had a hand in the pudding situation."

Tom asks, "I did?"

Dan sighs. "Remember that gesture we talked about?"

"Is that a euphemism?" Sun asks Lucifer.

"No, but it  _ is  _ a metaphor," Lucifer answers, shooting a finger gun at Sun. "I talked to my therapist about it. I know—so LA, right?"

"Yeah, so, this?" Tom says to Dan, gesturing between him and Lucifer. "Makes so much sense now."

"Thanks," Dan says dryly.

Lucifer continues, "But, in any case, I did make a reservation for dinner but I'm sure we could—"

"We have a reservation?" Dan asks.

"No, darling," Lucifer tells him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.  _ "I  _ have a reservation and you are pleasantly surprised by my thoughtfulness."

Dan's been working on his single eyebrow raises for moments like this.

"But, as I was saying," Lucifer continues, "I'm always up for a change of plans."

~*~

The thing about the dinner is that, like—it's weirdly normal, but not in the sense of, well—

Lucifer says a lot of bizarre shit, like he's prone to do, and Tom keeps sending Dan amused but also vaguely concerned looks of, like,  _ 'You didn't mention your guy was delusional,'  _ and the three of them are ridiculously underdressed for this restaurant but of  _ course _ Lucifer knows the owner, so it's fine, so none of this is  _ normal _ -normal, except—

Dan's hand is on Lucifer's knee, and Lucifer's arm is draped over the back of the booth and brushing against Dan's neck. He feeds Dan a bite of his chocolate cake, wetting his bottom lip subconsciously when the fork slips into Dan's mouth, and Tom and Sun think it's adorable instead of awkward or disgusting.

No one here wants Dan's life to be something more convenient. 

It hurts to leave, even though the roses are wilting and he's exhausted and Lucifer keeps brushing his thumb over the ridge on the base of Dan's neck like he wants to put his teeth there.

They go back to Dan's place and stick the flowers in one of those giant plastic Icee mugs because it's the closest thing Dan owns to a vase, and they don't fuck because like Dan said—he's exhausted.

But Luce brings himself off while Dan kisses him sleepily, breathing against his mouth and running a thumb over his nipple to help him get there—to the soft gasp and gentle brush of his lips against Dan's temple when his head lolls to the side. 

It's not that Dan wants anyone else to see this moment—but maybe he wants them to know it could exist. And he knows he's the one stopping them—Lucifer's out to everyone, except maybe his parents, the way he talks about them. Dan's never asked.

Luce sits up for a minute, cleaning up with a wad of tissues, and then pulls Dan back against his chest. He's been surprisingly cuddly since they got back together, even if they're always sprawled across the bed by morning.

"You've been quiet tonight," he murmurs, nose buried in Dan's hair.

Dan hums, half-asleep, and shifts so he can tuck his face against Lucifer's neck. 

"Anything you care to share?" Lucifer teases.

Dan mumbles, "Not tonight," and slings his arm across Lucifer's waist.

"Very well," Luce says. He tugs the blanket up further around them and presses a kiss to Dan's forehead. "Goodnight, love."

Dan smiles, drifting off to sleep, and definitely doesn't think about—

~*~

He probably meant it in the chill English dude way. They say it a lot over there, right?

~*~

Maybe he thought Dan was sleeping—maybe he meant it and he doesn't want Dan to know.

~*~

It's not that Dan wouldn't say it back, maybe. Probably, even. He's thought about it a little and he recognizes the way his whole body vibrates when Luce smiles at him that really specific way, like it's something good and important to be smiled at. 

It's just that—

If Dan's wrong—if Lucifer didn't mean it—Dan looks like a fucking desperate idiot. And three and a half weeks ago, Lucifer spectacularly bailed on Dan's entire life for less. 

(He still thinks about it. Kissing Lucifer's scars and being treated like he was the one who made them. He hasn't touched them since.)

So Dan doesn't ask about it, and he doesn't say it back, and when Lucifer asks him to, "Pass the coffee, darling?" he does it with a sense of vague relief under the disappointment.

They're supposed to go pick up Trixie in an hour; now that she's on summer vacation, Dan and Chloe are trying out trading full weeks at a time. He let Chloe talk him into it, but he worries that it'll be confusing and stressful for Trixie or harder when school starts again, or—

It's none of those things, if Dan really looks at himself.

Dan stares at the steam rising from his coffee mug and presses his palms against the scalding ceramic, and he's terrified that he won't be up for the job—that he's a better father than he was a year ago because he doesn't see her enough to fuck it up, that the guilt he's harboring will still be deserved.

At least—

And, Jesus, there's still a part of Dan that can't believe he's saying this—

At least Lucifer will be around to help. Dan is really grateful for that, which is objectively ridiculous. But Luce has been staying over a lot, which probably isn't sustainable but feels pretty fucking good, and Trixie loves him too much to question why he's always around.

He wonders what Chloe thinks, though. How much Trixie tells her. It's pretty backwards, isn't it? Letting your daughter hang around your new boyfriend before anyone else knows about him.

"Should we tell people?" Dan asks abruptly.

Lucifer raises an eyebrow and speaks slowly, gesturing with his mug. "That… I still find your taste in coffee deplorable? I can send out a group text if you'd like."

Shit. Was Luce talking to him— _ at  _ him—this whole time?

"Sorry, I—" Dan presses his hands, burning from gripping the coffee so tightly, to his face. "I was thinking about last night, I guess?"

"Oh? Which part?" Lucifer trails his fingers up Dan's bare arm, grinning.

"Dinner," Dan tells him, ignoring the come-on. "And—about being out, I guess?"

Lucifer drops his hand to the table, apparently in an effort to actually take this seriously. "Oh—you mean, tell people about us?"

"Not everyone," Dan clarifies. He sucks in a breath. "I mean, the station is—"

"Yes," Lucifer agrees. "I've noticed how… unpleasant some of them can be, even to me."

And everyone  _ likes  _ Lucifer. 

"But our friends? Like Ella and—" Dan hesitates. "And Chloe?"

Lucifer dumps a half-spoonful of sugar into his coffee and stirs it thoughtfully. "Well, you know I hate lying, and telling the others would be less… obscuring."

"Right," says Dan.

"But I'd never want to force you into something like that," Lucifer continues. "It's clear even to me how anxious it makes you."

Dan stares at his coffee again, still too hot to the touch. He normally pours creamer in it to cool it down, but he's not sure he'd be drinking it anyway.

"I mean, I spent thirty-five years being one thing," he tells the coffee, which doesn't answer. "And now I'm—I'm not that thing, but I don't know how to be something else, I mean, without—what if people—"

He looks up at Luce, who's gazing at him intently.

"What if they don't want me anymore," he croaks.

"Well," Lucifer softly answers. "All the more reason to shack up with the Devil, love."

~*~

Being with Lucifer is basically playing emotional crisis whack-a-mole.

~*~

Dan kisses him on the drive to Chloe's place, and in the history section of the library while Trixie darts around three rows down, looking for books about unicorns.

"Horrible misunderstanding, that one," Lucifer murmurs against Dan's mouth. "Thought it'd be funny at the time."

"You still say the weirdest things, man." Dan traces a hand down Lucifer's stomach, taking a half-step back when he heard Trixie's little footsteps coming back their way. He sucks in a breath, quirks his lips, and says, "I kinda love it."

~*~

Lucifer doesn't jump out of any of the library's second story windows, so that's probably a good sign. He stays at Dan's place for the first three nights and does whatever it is he does at Lux for the next two, which—

It's not that Dan feels like he  _ couldn't  _ go to Lux on nights like this. Lucifer's never explicitly made it about "needing space" or whatever. It's more about the fact that Dan is usually too tired during the week anyway, and Luce tends to weekend with Dan. Which is actually maybe a little weird, because it seems like the best time to actually run your high-end nightclub would be Friday and Saturday, but what does Dan know?

Anyway, the point is—Dan's never felt like he needed to track Lucifer down, and Lucifer seems plenty comfortable letting himself into the apartment when he wants to spend time together. It's fine, having it be on his terms.

Except Trixie ends up having a sleepover the second night Luce is gone, and Dan just, like. It's really weird, and empty in the house, and he very specifically  _ didn't  _ offer to host the sleepover because of all the screaming kids and also maybe, if he's being honest, some unsettling paranoia about the shit people would say about a single dad being alone with a bunch of pre-teen girls.

It's all totally unfounded in his case, because he's not a disgusting excuse of a human being, but he knows what people would say—and thanks to his job, he's seen why they say it. 

Dan could unpack all that shit, or he could get drunk for free at his boyfriend's club.

He gets there a little after ten, which means that it isn't ridiculously busy yet, but it's crowded enough that he catches sight of Lucifer and feels like he'd be getting in the way by saying hello.

There's decent space at the bar, though, because most people are dancing or lounging in booths. Dan hops up into one of the few free stools next to a short blonde woman dressed like she came from an office party—which makes her seem like better company for the mood Dan's in.

Benjamin is tending their half of the bar, shaking up some kind of mixed drink in one of those metal containers, and he nods at Dan in greeting when they lock eyes.

"Hey," Dan tells him.

"Oh, sorry," says the blonde woman. "I'm actually meeting someone here."

"Huh?" Dan asks, turning to her. "Oh, uh, I wasn't—nevermind. I am too, actually. Sort of?"

The woman raises an eyebrow. "Sort of?"

Dan winces. "It's more of a... surprise? I'm making this sound creepier than it is."

He hopes.

Benjamin rescues Dan by sliding a glass of red wine in front of the woman. "Boss says he wants you to try this one."

"Oh!" she says, sniffing it delicately before taking a sip. "No, that's lovely, as usual, but he really should stop—"

"We'll send over a case," Benjamin tells her, smiling.

"Oh, no," the woman answers, putting her hands up, "that's really not—"

Benjamin already has his back turned, pulling liquor bottles off the shelf.

"Ugh." She puts her face in her hands.

Dan laughs. "Wait, you're not meeting Lucifer here, are you?"

The woman looks up. "Um, no—Maze, actually. Do you know her?"

Christ. Small club.

"She lives with my ex-wife," Dan says. "Chloe?"

They also  _ gave karmic justice a nudge  _ together that one time, but that's not casual bartop conversation. Even if this lady is friends with Maze.

"Oh! My gosh," she answers, eyebrows going up in tandem with the rasp of her voice. "You're Daniel?"

Dan laughs nervously, but before he can answer, Benjamin slides a really bizarre-looking lavender and lime-green frozen drink in front of him.

"Aw, c'mon, man," Dan says. "What the hell is this?"

Ben shrugs. "You know I'm under direct orders to fuck with you."

Dan takes a sip, ignoring his drinking companion's amused smirk. It's actually pretty good.

"So, uh, do they talk about me, then?" Dan guesses, watching the woman—whose name he never asked for, he realizes, but it seems really awkward to do now—leave a lipstick print on her wine glass. "Since you recognize me."

"They don't, not particularly." She hums and sets the glass down. She's still smiling, but there's something warm and...private about it, maybe, that Dan doesn't understand. "But it  _ is  _ really nice to meet you."

Dan raises an eyebrow. "Uh, I don't—"

"Ah, I see you two've met!" Lucifer says, sliding a hand between Dan's shoulder blades as he steals the drink out of his hands. "Dangerous combination."

He waggles his eyebrows at the woman, who rolls her eyes.

"I actually haven't introduced myself," she says, and proceeds to...still not do that.

Lucifer chugs half of Dan's drink, then says, "Right, I still don't understand why you're so particular about that, but if you insist—Daniel, this is Doctor Linda, my therapist."

"Oh," Dan says. Then,  _ "Oh,"  _ again, when it processes. He snags his glass back and takes a drink.

"Wait a minute," Lucifer says. He eyes Dan suspiciously. "Why  _ have  _ you met? I thought we—Trixie was staying through the weekend?"

Dan is, like, weirdly touched that it occurred to him. "Uh, she's at a friend's house. I got kinda bored at home I guess."

"Ah. Well, I'll be quite happy to entertain you, darling." Lucifer's hand trails up to the base of Dan's neck, squeezing gently. He waves down Benjamin with the other hand. "Just give me a few moments and I'll be at your disposal—or, would you rather be at mine?"

"Uh," says Dan.

Lucifer takes the two glasses Ben hands him and leans down to purr in Dan's ear, "Why don't you wait for me in the penthouse? On your knees, if you would."

Dan swallows thickly, fixing his eyes on the shelves of alcohol on the far end of the bar. He nods.

"Good boy," Luce murmurs. He noses at the shell of Dan's ear before straightening, suddenly all cheerful business as he strides away.

"God," Linda says, with feeling, possibly to herself. "I miss that."

Dan looks over at her with surprise. They lock eyes for a long, supremely uncomfortable moment.

"I can explain," she says.

Dan finishes his drink. "Honestly? You don't have to. I'm used to it."

"Oh," Linda answers. "That's good, because I'm not sure my explanation would be very good, to be honest."

Dan shrugs, then hops to his feet, pushing against the bartop. "I guess I better go, uh—"

"Yes," Linda says, resting her hands on the counter with some finality. "You do that."

"Uh, yeah." Dan clears his throat. "Bye?"

He heads for the stairs, hands shoved in his pockets.

"Daniel?" Linda calls, waiting for him to turn around. She adjusts her glasses on her face and smiles again, just as cryptically as before. "It really was—nice to meet you, I mean."

Dan smiles too, even if he's not totally sure why.

"You, too," he answers, and makes his way through the crowd.

~*~

Dan stays the night in Lucifer's giant-ass bed, but they part ways in the morning so Dan can get Trixie from her friend's house. They're working on separate cases, so they don't see much of each other again until Lucifer reappears at the apartment on Friday night with a stuffed unicorn for Trixie and, for some godforsaken reason, a bottle of blue raspberry vodka. 

"C'mon, man," Dan gripes, even though he reaches for the shot glasses after Trixie goes to bed. "What are we, sorority sisters?"

"Ooh, I do love a good roleplay," Lucifer teases, waggling his eyebrows. "Do you think a sexy pillow fight would wake the child?"

Dan rolls his eyes.

"It intrigued me!" Lucifer unscrews the bottle, which Dan realizes is half empty. "Snagged it from Lux on the way over."

Dan watches Lucifer pour them each a shot, eyes tracing over the way his hand wraps around the bottle, the way he curls his wrist when he tops the glasses off with a flourish. His mouth waters when Luce hands him his glass.

"To indulging our impulses," Lucifer toasts, smirking at Dan over the rim.

Dan clinks their glasses together and holds his breath while he takes the shot, which tastes—

"Better than bourbon," Dan says, and challenges Luce with a shit-eating grin.

Lucifer gasps indignantly. "You take that back!"

"Make me," Dan suggests. He catches the delighted glint in Lucifer's eyes for the split second right when he goes to bolt, and Luce has an arm around his middle before he clears the kitchen.

Lucifer pins him against the counter, the sharp edge digging into the small of Dan's back, and slips a hand up Dan's shirt before he can blink.

_ Fuck.  _ Dan shouldn't love getting fucking manhandled so much—but he's already getting hard against Lucifer's thigh, which is exactly why he wanted to be here in the first place.

Luce presses his mouth to Dan's ear and purrs, "My, my— _ someone's  _ feeling naughty tonight. Are you ready to take it back, darling?"

Dan tilts his head back against the top cabinets, baring his throat. "Gonna have to try harder than that."

"Oh?" Lucifer takes the hint and sinks his teeth in, sucking a hickey onto Dan's neck that's actually a really bad idea that far up. "You know, there's a lot more I could do to you if there weren't your offspring in the next room."

Dan curls his fingers into Lucifer's hair. 

"But since I need you to keep quiet—" Lucifer drags his hand up to Dan's throat and  _ squeezes,  _ not even that hard, and—

Dan's knees buckle when he comes in his fucking pants, right there in the kitchen.

Lucifer catches him before he slumps all the way to the ground, lowering him there slowly and speaking with something that Dan, fucking whiplashed as he is, could describe as awe. "Did you just—?"

Dan tries to blink the stars out of his vision, leaves his eyes shut, hot embarrassment rising to his face.

"Oh, darling," Lucifer says, and his voice is soft but not apologetic. He caresses his thumbs across Dan's cheeks. "I'm going to have  _ so  _ much fun with you."

~*~

The thing is that, well—

Dan's known he has a thing for getting pushed around for a while. Like, it's not like he kept going back to Charlotte Richards because she whispered sweet nothings in his ear while he made love to her under the moonlight. And Chloe, in a word? Bossy.

(It's not an insult. Dan was and is a lot of things, but being insecure about taking orders from a woman has never been one of them.)

And this is like that, but it also isn't, because if Chloe had it in her to really hurt him, it never occurred to him. And sure, he has this really specific fantasy revolving around the fact that Charlotte gives off a vibe, of, like, she could unhinge her jaw and swallow him whole—but he'd also never let her put her teeth around something she could tear out.

Lucifer wraps his hand around Dan's throat and soothes, or threatens, or some unnameable combination of those two in equal parts, "Steady, darling—that's my good boy," and Dan thinks,  _ I could pass out,  _ and it's the safest he's felt in years. He closes his eyes and lets Luce frot against him—comes, gasping, again—shudders and resettles.

"That's—" Dan breathes out. "That was—"

"Yes, quite," Lucifer agrees. He kisses at Dan's ribs while he gently cleans the come off his stomach for him. "You seemed to rather enjoy that."

Dan's pretty sure that when you choke someone in, like, the responsible kinky way, you never actually cut off their air supply.

He'll blame what happens next on the lightheadedness, anyway.

"Hey," he says, when Luce ditches the washcloth and lays back down facing him. It feels like everything slows down, taking in the open, earnest warmth in his eyes. "I love you."

Lucifer almost smiles. Like he wants to, and needs to not want it anymore.

"Right. Well, my condolences." He stares through Dan—reaches out as if to brush the hair away from his temple and never touches him. "I hope you recover soon."

"Luce—hey, look at me," Dan says. He cups Lucifer's jaw and turns his face to look him in the eye. "I'm serious. I love you."

Lucifer laughs softly, eyes dropping lower almost immediately. "Did I choke you too hard, Detective? I told you to tap out if—"

"Please don't freak out on me," Dan begs. "You don't have to say it back, man, I just—"

"What am I supposed to do?" Lucifer pleads suddenly, voice cracking. His eyes are wet now, glassy even in the low light. "I'm not a good  _ person,  _ Daniel, I told you—you don't understand."

"I don't care if you're good." Dan thumbs at Lucifer's bottom lip gently. "I love you."

Lucifer finally touches him—fingertips along the shell of his ear—and says, "You'll change your mind one day."

"Gonna have to try harder than that," Dan whispers.

Luce smiles. There's something bittersweet in it, but it might be a trick of the low light.

"Not tonight, love," he says, and presses a kiss to Dan's forehead.

~*~

"Daniel!" Luce is whispering urgently, shaking Dan by the shoulders. "Daniel, wake up!"

Dan twitches awake groggily, fluttering his eyes open and squinting into the pitch black. "Luce? What time's'it? What's—"

"I forgot to say it back."

Dan blinks. "What?"

"That I love you," Lucifer tells him, voice tinged with wonder. "Which—I believe I do."

Dan's grin spreads onto his face slowly, despite also feeling cranky as hell about being woken up. "That's great, man. I'm gonna take mine back if you don't go the fuck to sleep."

"Understood." Lucifer hesitates, though. Dan's eyes are starting to adjust to the dark and he can see the vague shape of a tentative smile on his face. "Can I be the 'little spoon?'"

"Yeah, babe," Dan answers, and maybe it's because he's still half-asleep, but it feels like a second confession was whispered across the pillowcase. "Of course. C'mere."

Luce rolls onto his other side and Dan wraps his arms around him, face pressed into the back of his neck. He's a little warm. Dan pulls the covers up around them anyway and resettles, holding Lucifer snugly while their breathing evens out.

He can feel the scars against his chest.

~*~

Dan wakes up to the sun filtering through the windows and Luce gazing at him, cheek resting on his pillow. 

"Hey," Dan says. He reaches over and strokes his hand down Lucifer's arm. "Did you wake me up last night, or did I dream that?"

Lucifer smirks cheekily. "I did get up at one point, if that's what you—"

"Fuck off, man," Dan tells him, laughing softly. He leans in for a kiss, which Lucifer gives him easily. 

It's—well, it's weird, because he wants to say it again but doesn't feel like he has to—like it's crystallized between them.

"Very well," Lucifer murmurs, and pulls Dan on top of him. 

They make out for a few minutes before Dan drops his hips down, rocking his morning wood against Lucifer's stomach. 

"Hello, De- _ tective,"  _ Luce purrs, sliding a hand down to squeeze Dan's ass. "Is that a—"

"Daddy?" Trixie asks from the doorway, and Dan curses and scrambles to the other side of the bed, yanking the sheets up to their bare chests. "What're you doing?"

_ Shit. Shit shit shit. _

"Uh, hey—" Dan coughs. "Hey, munchkin, we were just—I thought the door was locked, kiddo."

"Nope!" Trixie says. She's holding the unicorn Lucifer bought her by one of its hooves.

"Ah." Lucifer goes to rub the back of his neck, which makes the sheet slip down to his waist. He tugs it back up hastily. "That one is my fault, I believe. I was feeling a bit peckish last night."

Dan turns to him and hisses, "You didn't lock the door?"

Lucifer asks defensively, "How was I supposed to know she can open doors?"

"She's _eight, _not a cat." Dan smacks his chest. "She has _thumbs."_

Trixie says, "I can hear you guys."

Dan winces. He looks back at her and suggests, "Hey, Trix, why don't you give me and Lucifer a few minutes to get dressed and we'll talk in the living room, okay?"

"Okay!" Trixie skips out of the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind her, and Dan burrows under the covers with a groan.

"She's probably not scarred for life, right?" Dan asks, muffling his voice against the comforter. "I mean, I walked in on my parents one time and I turned out okay, didn't I?"

Lucifer pats the top of his head. "Yes, you're a fairly decent human."

"Thanks, babe." 

Luce hums, reaching off the bed to grab something.

Dan rolls onto his stomach, squeezing his eyes shut for a long moment. "Fuck. We have to tell her the truth, don't we?"

Lucifer shrugs into his crumpled shirt from the night before and then slides down the pillows, settling next to Dan. 

Dan looks at him expectantly

"Afraid so, love," Lucifer says. "Unless you think she'll fall for the time-old tale of 'naked wrestling.'"

Dan scrubs a hand over his face. "I don't want her to feel like sex is something you've gotta be ashamed of, you know? I just—this is  _ really  _ not how I wanted to have this talk."

"Yes, it doesn't seem ideal," Lucifer agrees. "I'd rather not think about my mum and dad having sex either, although I suppose you—"

"We've gotta tell her about  _ us,"  _ Dan realizes. Another lump forms in his throat. "Shit, we've probably gotta tell  _ Chloe." _

Luce frowns. He scoops the rest of their clothes off the floor, handing Dan's tee shirt to him. "I'm sure we could bribe the little miscreant with cake to keep a secret."

"No, that's not fair to her," Dan says, resigned. He pulls his shirt on and reaches for his boxers—grabs Lucifer's by mistake and puts those on anyway. "I don't want her caught between her parents, you know? Chlo and I—we said we wouldn't let that happen."

"Well." Lucifer slides off the bed, pulling up his pants as he goes. He ditches the belt, leaving his shirt untucked instead. "As a child of the world's first and messiest divorce, I do appreciate the effort."

Dan grabs his neglected pajama pants off the dresser instead of bothering with his blue jeans. "I just hope she's not pissed at me—for keeping it from her, you know?"

"You've done nothing wrong," Lucifer tells him firmly. "If the detective takes issue, she can have it out with me."

Dan shakes his head. "We'll see. You ready to do this?"

"Not in the slightest," Lucifer says, leaning over to kiss Dan gently, closed-mouthed. Then, he smacks Dan on the ass and throws open the door.

"Urchin!" he says brightly. "What do you want in your pancakes today?"

Dan rolls his eyes, following him out of the bedroom. Trixie is on the couch with cartoons playing, but she turns to answer Lucifer.

"Strawberries and chocolate chips, please!" she says, smiling broadly at him. 

Lucifer bows dramatically, says, "Your wish is my command," and conveniently vanishes into the kitchen.

_ Thanks for the backup, dude,  _ Dan thinks dryly. 

He sighs, coming to sit next to Trixie on the couch, and waits for a commercial break to mute the TV.

"Are we gonna talk now?" Trixie asks.

"Yeah, kiddo, we are." Dan takes a breath. "So, uh, I want you to know that what Lucifer and I were doing wasn't bad or wrong, okay? But it  _ was  _ private, and I'm sorry we left the door unlocked, because it’s not okay to do that… uh, stuff… where other people can see unless everyone wants to."

"Daddy," Trixie whispers—not super effectively, but she tries. "Were you and Lucifer doing  _ naked  _ stuff?"

Dan suppresses a laugh. "Uh, yeah. We were. Which is why I wanted to ask if you could please knock before you come into my room, like I knock before I come into yours?"

"Oh," she says. "Okay!"

Dan smiles, glancing in the direction of the kitchen, where they can hear the faint sound of Lucifer singing to himself while a pan sizzles.

"Munchkin, you know, uh—you know how Lucifer is here a lot, and sometimes he spends the night with us?" Dan asks. He drags his palms over his knees, trying to calm his nerves. 

Trixie nods.

Dan says, "Well, that's because Lucifer—Lucifer is my boyfriend. We're dating like me and Mommy were, before we got married. What do you think about that?"

"Hmm." Trixie looks thoughtful, then grins at him. "I like Lucifer! He's really funny and he's nice to me, and you and Mommy smile a lot when he's around."

Dan's shoulders sag with relief. There's a giddy warmth bubbling up his throat. 

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I guess we do."

Trixie furrows her eyebrows. "When you and Lucifer get married, how do you decide who gets to wear the pretty dress and who has to wear the boring suit?"

Dan laughs with surprise. "I don't know if—"

"I can assure you my suit would  _ not  _ be boring," Lucifer cuts in primly. He sets a double-stack of pancakes in front of Trix on the coffee table and presses a quick kiss to Dan's temple. "Coffee, love?"

"Yeah," Dan says, clearing his throat. "Please."

~*~

Chloe comes to pick Trixie up the next day, and Dan pulls her to the side while Lucifer distracts Trixie with a game of Lightsaber Battles, which can seriously only end in disaster for Dan's Ikea furniture but is still better than having witnesses to this conversation.

"What's up?" Chloe asks, shooting a quizzical look in Lucifer's direction. "I told Trix we'd get ice cream and she's got camp tomorrow."

"Uh," says Dan.

Chloe raises an eyebrow at him. "Did Trixie do something? Wait, did  _ Lucifer  _ do something?"

"Okay, obviously the second one is way more likely," Dan jokes weakly. Chloe twitches her lips at him. "But, uh, no? It's more, uh—"

"Dan," Chloe interrupts gently. "You know you can talk to me, right? What happened?"

"There's just not a good way to—" Dan cuts off, frustrated. He should've taken Luce up on the offer of having him break the news. "Okay, I'm just gonna—I'm dating Lucifer. Like, we're dating."

Chloe says, "Oh," and then, "Like, romantically?"

"Yeah," Dan says. "That's—we're dating, yeah."

Chloe's face is doing something complicated. Not  _ bad  _ complicated, just more like—

"For how long?" she asks.

Dan tilts his face up to the ceiling. "Uh, you remember that big fight we had?"

"Oh." Chloe looks over at Lucifer again.  _ "Ohh.  _ Your 'moment?'"

"Yeah," says Dan.

Chloe is frowning softly. She reaches out and touches Dan's arm. "You could've told me. Did you think I wouldn't—"

"I don't know," Dan admits. He can't look right at her—he keeps glancing up at her face and back away. "I've just been… freaked out in general. If I'm being honest? I'm only telling you because Trix—"

"Does she know?" Chloe asks, watching as Lucifer jumps up onto Dan's couch to avoid getting whammed in the stomach by Trixie's lightsaber.

Dan braces for impact. "She walked in on—okay, see, don't look at me that way—Lucifer thought she couldn't open  _ doors.  _ How am I supposed to work around that?"

Chloe shakes her head and asks, "Did you talk to her?"

"Yeah, of course," Dan answers, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. The lack of faith isn't totally undeserved, but it still stings. "She knows we're dating. She said she's fine with it."

"Okay. I'm—" Chloe pauses, looking over at Lucifer again. "I'm happy for you."

Dan's stomach twists. Cautiously, he asks, "Are you… sure?"

"No, yeah, I…" Chloe trails off. Her voice is too light and she's always had a shitty poker face. Never would've made it in Vice—which is why it's lucky she's such a damn good homicide detective. "Nevermind, it's not important."

"Okay," Dan says. "The worst thing you could do right now is make me wonder what you were about to say forever. I'd rather just know."

Chloe finally looks at him again, her eyes wide and honest this time. "I guess I just thought that we—that Lucifer and I—there was something between us, maybe. So, that stings."

"Oh. No, yeah, I—I get that," Dan says. He's relieved, and guilty over it. "I'm sorry, Chlo, I wasn't trying to—"

"No, I know." She pats him on the chest awkwardly. "Probably wouldn't have worked out anyway."

Dan clears his throat, shoves his hands in his pockets. "Uh, if it helps—I don't know if—but, uh, we're not monogamous, and we're not planning to be. And I think if you wanted—"

"Wait, really?" Chloe asks, eyebrows going up.

There's probably something a little wrong with Dan, that he keeps prolonging this fucking nightmare of a conversation.

"I mean, I can barely keep up with  _ him,  _ so it's not like I'm going out to pick up in bars," he says. "But, yeah, it's something we talked about. And, Chlo, I don't think you're crazy—what you two have is—I mean, it's  _ special." _

Chloe shakes her head and purses her lips.

"But don't you get, you know—" she coughs lightly and lowers her voice, like this is the one part of the conversation it'd be awkward for Lucifer to overhear. "Jealous?"

_ Only of you,  _ Dan thinks, which—

He hadn't realized it was true, until just now. He couldn't care less about the strangers filling in and out of Lucifer's penthouse, other than to be glad it makes Lucifer happy.

And it's just—one of those things that sounds more totally fine and normal in his head than it does when he actually tries to follow through out loud. Like, he thinks most people would send him in for a psych eval if he said he was cool with his ex-wife and his boyfriend being such good  _ friends,  _ let alone—

Jesus Christ, Dan basically just told Chloe that she should fuck his boyfriend. 

And it's not, like—

He's not possessive, exactly. It doesn't bother him in the sense of, like, wanting to keep either one of them to himself. He's glad they make each other happy.

But it's almost like they were made for each other, sometimes, the way they are when they're together, and Dan's—

Maybe he's just their mutual pit stop.

He's distracted by a peal of laughter, followed by Trixie nailing Lucifer on the shin with all her freakish tiny child strength.

_ "Ow!"  _ Luce says, clutching at his leg, but he's still grinning playfully at her. "You hit harder when your mother's around, you do realize?"

Dan smiles despite himself, focusing on the warmth in his chest. 

It wouldn't be the worst thing, would it? As long as he got to keep this for a little while longer.

"Oh, buddy," Chloe says. "You've got it bad."

Dan laughs, but he's not sure that her face looks much different than his. 

"Guess so," he answers. 

"Mommy, will you come play with us?" Trixie asks. She holds her lightsaber up pointedly; Luce puts his hands up to block his face.

"In a minute, monkey," Chloe answers. "Let me talk with Daddy for a little bit longer, okay?"

Lucifer begs, "Detective, have mercy! Your offspring is a warmonger and I bruise like a peach."

"You deserve it after what you pulled on Thursday," Chloe says mildly.

Trixie takes this as her cue to whack Lucifer on the other shin.

Dan huffs out a laugh.

"He's been different lately, you know," Chloe tells him, after Lucifer and Trixie are distracted again. She tilts her head. "Or—hm. More himself, maybe. The good parts."

"Really?" Dan asks.

Chloe smiles lopsidedly. "I guess I know why."

"Maybe," Dan says. He reaches for her—almost lets himself close the distance. "Think about what I said, though. Seriously."

"Hm. Not sure it's for me," she admits. "But I will—think about it, I mean."

Dan says, "Uh, okay, sounds good. And, uh, no one else at work knows, so."

"Don't worry," Chloe promises. She glances away for a second, then reaches up to pull him into a hug. "And, Dan—we're seriously good, okay? I love you."

Dan's heart pangs. He closes his eyes, pressing his face into her hair for as long as he can stand it—before it starts to feel like he's begging for something.

"You too, Chlo." He pulls away, squeezing her arm.

She smiles at him again. Not like she used to, but still good. Like he matters.

Then, she puts a finger to her lips and creeps over towards Luce and Trixie, grabbing a pillow off the couch. 

With which she immediately clubs Lucifer over the head, because she's still the woman Dan fell in love with.

Lucifer stumbles sideways into coffee table, gasping dramatically. "Et tu, Detective?"

Dan laughs and joins them in the living room—he grabs another pillow, which he tosses to Lucifer, and takes one for himself.

"Daniel!" Lucifer beams at him. "My knight in—" he blocks Trixie's next swing with the pillow. "Oof. Shining armor."

"Sorry, babe," Dan says, letting a grin spread over his face. "Just making it a fair fight."

Lucifer gapes at him and scrambles backwards, towards Trixie's room. "Oh, nonono! Three against one is  _ hardly— _ ack!—fair. I'm _ terribly _ human right now, you see—Urchin, I made you pancakes!"

Dan looks over at Chloe, who winks at him. He's pretty sure she said something about ice cream and getting home for camp, but he's not gonna be the one to ruin the moment.

_ A little longer,  _ he thinks.  _ Just give me that. _

~*~

The thing about Dan's life is that it's always great for a little while, before it inevitability goes to—well, the place his boyfriend keeps acting like he's from.

But Dan's starting to think it's actually some kind of direct cosmic punishment—because he doesn't go to church? Because he doesn't call his mom enough?

It was a really great year. Dan moved on from his broken marriage. He made two new friends. He fell in love again.

Lucifer left him a really fucking cryptic voicemail last night, and Chloe is dying.

That case from last year, with the dead flight attendants—the one that in a way started all of this—it wasn't about drug trafficking. It was about some twisted fucking scientist who decided to go on a murder spree to prove he was a good person, and now—

(Dan still thinks it's Lucifer's fault for convincing Chloe to goad the jackass. But they can have their big fight about that after they stop her organs from melting.)

They track the supplier to his art show. Dan punches the motherfucker in the face, and Lucifer punches the bodyguard who splits open Dan's cheek. And the other bodyguard. It's a fucking miracle no one gets shot.

But then it's a dead end, even after Lucifer buys the stupid painting.

("It's going in your apartment," Lucifer mutters. Dan socks him on the bicep.)

The professor died with the formula, and there's no way to recreate it from just the ingredients list in time. 

Car crashes, dramatic shootouts—Dan's had plenty of nightmares about losing Chloe, or about dying himself. He'd always imagined Trixie would eventually only have one of them left.

He never thought about it being like this, though—slowly, with too much time to say goodbye.

Lucifer refuses to say it at all. Chloe asks for him, and Dan goes out into the hallway to get him and finds him gone. 

It's fucking selfish of him, is what it is. 

Dan sits on the edge of Chloe's bed and tells her they haven't given up, that's why Luce isn't here, and then he gets up to go sob his fucking guts out in the broom closet, scrubs at his cheeks until they're dry, and walks back into the room to sit on the edge of her bed again.

He'd take dying instead, if he could. The blood is drying on his face; he hasn't had time to wash it off.

He's heading to the bathroom to do that, though, because Chloe asked him to, when Lucifer barrels into him at full speed.

"Daniel!" he says, sounding borderline frantic. "Did you gather the ingredients for the antidote yet?"

Dan blinks. "What? No, I've just been spending time with Chloe. They're useless to us without the full formula."

Lucifer insists, "Well, you need to get on that, because I'm about to  _ get _ the formula."

"How is that possible?" Dan asks. He can't—if Lucifer found a lead, why wouldn't he have called?

"Fairly certain you don't want to know," Lucifer answers. He looks ready to bolt at any second, rocking back on his heels.

Dan reaches for him, grabs him by the wrist. "What? Luce, what's going on?"

"I really can't explain." Lucifer looks around, then takes a step closer. "Daniel, do you trust me?"

"I—" Dan meets his gaze, feeling his throat close up at the piercing desperation there. "Of course I do."

"Then get the ingredients," Lucifer begs.  _ "Please." _

Dan swallows. "Okay, I—do what you have to do. Ella and I will get them."

"Right." Lucifer turns to go, his wrist almost tugging free of Dan's grip, but something stops him halfway through. He glances back slowly, his face softening.

"Dan," he says, and Dan wishes the urgency would be back into his voice, because this is— "This will almost certainly work, but in the event that it doesn't…"

Dan tries to ask, "What—" but Lucifer kisses him first. Hands cupping his face, carefully avoiding the welling bruise, a soft sigh against his mouth.

It breaks the 'no kissing in public unless Dan initiates' rule, but Dan's suddenly so overwhelmed with a sharp ache in his chest that he forgets to be pissed about it.

"I really do love you," Lucifer whispers. "Doctor Linda can explain everything, if you want, after…"

He pulls away. 

Dan brings a hand to his cheek, feeling some of the blood flake away under his fingers. He understands what kind of mission this is, now.

"Luce," he starts to beg. "Wait, I—"

_ Can't lose you, too,  _ he almost says. Except—

Dan realizes, in the moment. What he'd choose, if he had to. The lever he'd pull, the direction he'd point a loaded gun.

It's the most horrifying moment of his life, the knowing—more than the threat of it coming true.

"I love you," Dan says. "See you soon."

Lucifer smiles, and vanishes into the stairwell.

~*~

Dan is speeding back to the hospital after dropping Ella at the lab. He got a call from security, telling him that Chloe is crashing and Amenadiel is causing some kind of fight to break out and—

Jesus, Dan hopes that was part of Lucifer's plan—

And Dan was wrong about there being too much time, there could never be enough time, he'll cry in a broom closet until he pukes every hour for the rest of his life for ten more seconds to say goodbye at the foot of the bed.

But when he gets there, Chloe is peacefully sedated and Lucifer is with Amenadiel, and—

"You look like hell," Dan tells him, choking back tears. 

"There and back, in fact." Luce sniffs his collar and wrinkles his nose. "Smell like it, too. Sorry, darling."

Dan shakes his head, reaching out shakily. "Did you get it?"

"Miss Lopez is making the antidote as we speak," Lucifer assures him. He steps forward, pressing his chest against Dan's outstretched hands—they curl in his shirt, which is unbuttoned.

Dan says, "You made it sound like you weren't—"

He can't finish the sentence. His knuckles have bruises on them. They hurt.

Lucifer's throat quivers. "Amenadiel?"

"What is it, Luci?"

Lucifer is looking at Dan like he's the one who was about to disappear. He cups Dan's jaw one-handed, thumbs at his bottom lip, and says, "Don't tell Mum."

"What?" Amenadiel asks. "Isn't she—oh."

They're kissing again. One of them is crying, because Dan can taste it on the seam of his lips. One of them is laughing, too, which he can feel in his chest—which probably means that it's him and he's fucking losing it a little.

"Ella's brother runs a chop shop," Dan says, because it makes sense to bring up at the time.

"Oh?" Luce asks. He nuzzles their noses together. "You're not going to arrest him, are you?"

"Nah," Dan answers. "Seems like it'd be in bad taste."

Lucifer hums in agreement, dipping down to kiss him again.

"Hey," Dan asks, suddenly remembering. "What's with that voicemail you left me last night? Something about your dad? It sounded important."

Lucifer glances over at Amenadiel, then back at Dan. He tweaks Dan's ear and says, "One crisis per day, love. We'll worry about it when the Detective is better."

Dan gets the familiar feeling that something important is being kept from him. The one crisis a day policy sounds pretty good, though—so he lets Luce reel him back in anyway.

Whatever it is, they can deal with it in the morning.

~*~

** _Chloe (12:35 PM): _ ** _ Hey, have you heard from Lucifer? He's not answering his phone. _

** _Dan (12:37 PM): _ ** _ Nah, but he usually crashes at Lux a few nights a week _

** _Dan (12:37 PM): _ ** _ Figured he was just there blowing off steam. Want me to check on him? _

** _Chloe (12:40 PM): _ ** _ No, I'm sure it's fine. Just Lucifer being Lucifer. _

~*~

** _Daniel [Eggplant Emoji] (10:11 PM): _ ** _ Hey, it's been a while, everything okay? _

** _Daniel [Eggplant Emoji] (10:13 PM): _ ** _ Just wondering if you wanted to come over _

** _Daniel [Eggplant Emoji] (11:06 PM): _ ** _ Trix says you told her you'd take her to the movies tomorrow _

~*~

** _Daniel [Eggplant Emoji] (8:33 AM): _ ** _ Luce, it's been four days _

** _Daniel [Eggplant Emoji] (9:47 AM): _ ** _ Whatever I did please just talk to me about it _

** _Daniel [Eggplant Emoji] (5:29 PM): _ ** _ Fuck it. Me and Chloe are coming over. _

** _Daniel [Eggplant Emoji] (2:00 AM): _ ** _ This isn't what loving someone looks like. _

~*~

** _Lucifer Morningstar (4:11 AM): _ ** _ Trust me. Please. _

~*~

Dan hates the way Chloe keeps looking at him. It's probably how he's looking at her.

~*~

Two weeks go by. Dan's in the middle of a text to Tom, finally admitting it's time to get wine drunk and drown his sorrows in  _ Friends  _ reruns on their couch—so obviously that's when Lucifer waltzes back into the precinct.

Chloe is dragging her fingers down his suit, kind of like how she checks for a wire, prodding like there must be injuries to explain two weeks of radio silence.

"Thank God you're safe," she says. "Where have you  _ been?" _

Dan keeps his jaw clenched.

Where Lucifer's  _ been  _ picks her way down the main staircase in four-inch heels. Which, sure, Lucifer can go on a two-week bender in Vegas if he fucking wants, far be it from Dan to stop him, but he could've  _ called.  _

Dan's about to say so when Candy Morningstar holds up a diamond ring the size of one of Dan's knuckles.

_ Trust me,  _ Lucifer had said. 

Fucking bastard.

~*~

"Do you want me to shoot him?" Chloe offers. She pops another cheese puff into her mouth, crunching down aggressively. "I've done it once."

"Hah, no, but thanks for—" Dan narrows his eyes at her. "You said that was an accident."

Chloe shrugs cryptically. They're collectively glaring at Lucifer and Candy, who appear to be making small talk with the lieutenant, from the break room. 

Until Lucifer looks over and catches them staring, at which point he touches the small of Candy's back and walks right towards them. Of course.

"Have fun with that," Chloe tells Dan, and power walks in the opposite direction.

Dan scrubs a hand over his face. He thinks about bailing too, but if he's being honest—

_ "Ow!" _

Shoving Lucifer into the fridge feels pretty gratifying.

"What in Dad's name was that for?"

Dan rolls his eyes. "Take a fucking guess, dude."

Lucifer rubs his elbow and says, "I  _ asked  _ you to trust me!"

"And look what you  _ did  _ with it!" Dan snaps, throwing his hands up.  _ "Married,  _ Luce? Seriously?"

"As I recall, you told me—"

Dan turns away from him, pacing the room. "Don't act like it's the same thing. You—you didn't call, you send me a single fucking text—you bail on Trixie? I asked you for  _ one thing." _

"Daniel—"

The shitty metal chair screeches when Dan pulls it away from the table and sits down heavily in it. He puts his face in his hands to muffle the way his voice is creaking.

"I was so worried about you, Lucifer. I thought we got past this." He takes a breath, lifts his head. "You said you  _ loved  _ me."

"I  _ do.  _ Please, don't—" Lucifer looks gutted, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip. He sits down in the chair across the table, almost takes Dan's hands before he seems to remember where they are. "Dan, loving you is the one thing I'm sure of these days."

Dan laughs sarcastically. "You've got a shitty way of showing it, man."

"Yes, I do," Lucifer grits out. "One could go so far as to call it  _ unbelievable." _

"Yeah," Dan snarks, "that's actually—"

It hits him.

"Really accurate," he says. He looks around the precinct, but no one's looking their way. Candy is bothering Chloe by playing with those physics beads, which would be a weirdly adorable parallel under different circumstances. "Luce, what's happening? Is someone—"

"I think if we're going to have a lovers' spat, it should be somewhere private, don't you?" Lucifer asks. He brushes his hand over Dan's knuckles, quick as anything, and stands up abruptly. "Perhaps at your apartment, tonight?"

Dan clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. Okay."

"And Daniel?" Lucifer says, hesitating at the door. "Don't tell Chloe."

~*~

The case keeps Dan busy for the rest of the day while they try to track down whoever killed Ash Corrigan. There's suspects to interview, fights between Chloe and Lucifer to witness, and a whiteboard to fill with pictures and scribbled theories.

(Dan does that last one while he eavesdrops on the fight. He's pretty sure Chloe has thrown Lucifer off the case. Yikes.)

But then it's time to go home, and Dan is staring at the condensation on his unopened beer bottle, turning the bottle cap opener between his fingers, waiting for Lucifer to show the fuck up.

He quit smoking when Trixie was born, but he really wants a fucking cigarette to have something to do with his hands—and an excuse to exhale.

The lock turns on the door. Dan turns to find Lucifer letting himself and Candy into the apartment, carefully untying his shoes to leave them by the door.

Dan's irritation flares up again. "You brought her?"

"Ah, Candy, darling," Lucifer says, touching Candy's arm. "Could you give Daniel and myself a moment? Help yourself to anything in the kitchen."

Candy bounces up and down on her ridiculous shoes and claps her hands before scurrying off, and Dan lifts his hands in a  _ 'dude, seriously?'  _ gesture that Lucifer totally ignores.

He walks over and sits down on the couch, angled to face Dan and placing a hand in the space between them.

"Right," he says. "I need you to understand that I've told no one this—not even Doctor Linda. And you need to swear to me that you won't tell anyone, either. Not the detective. Not my brother. And  _ certainly  _ not M—Charlotte Richards."

Dan furrows his eyebrows. "Charlotte? What the fuck does she—"

_ "Promise  _ me, Daniel."

There's that familiar thing in Lucifer's eyes again—the pain, in a hunted way, like it's chasing him down.

Dan takes his hand, brushing a thumb across his knuckles. "I promise."

"Excellent." Lucifer turns his head and shouts, "Candy, darling—end scene!"

He even does the gesture with his other hand.

Candy pokes her head around the corner and says, "Ugh, thank God," dropping the cutesy voice.

She strides into the living room and bends over to unbuckle the straps of her shoes, flashing a really spectacular view of her cleavage.

Dan coughs and pointedly stares at the ceiling.

"Aww, Luci!" she says. "He's cute  _ and  _ sweet."

"Of course he is." Lucifer shoots Dan a warm, private smile. "I told you, I never lie."

Dan smiles back, then turns to watch Candy as she joins them on the couch; she flops down against the far armrest and props her feet up in Dan's lap.

"She's in on it?" Dan asks, blinking. 

"Obviously," Lucifer answers. "I know you've met  _ actual _ adult women, Daniel—you were married to one."

Candy does a finger wave at them.

Dan narrows his eyes at Lucifer. "But that means you're lying."

Lucifer leans away indignantly. "We most certainly are  _ not.  _ We're bluffing! It's entirely different."

"Like,  _ totally  _ different," Candy agrees, doing the fake voice again. 

Dan scrubs a hand over his face. He can argue that one later.

"Okay, semantics or whatever," he concedes. "Please, just tell me what's going on."

"Right. Well, it'll have to be the short version," Lucifer says, squeezing Dan's hand. "We don't have time for any brain melting right now."

Dan picks his battles and lets that bizarreness slide.

"Simply put, right before the detective was poisoned, my mother so  _ helpfully  _ revealed to me that everything—that my father  _ put  _ the detective in my path." Lucifer's voice is tight. His hand flexes in Dan's grip. "And if that's true, then I can't—how could I trust anyone,  _ anything? _ Mum's never done anything that wasn't for herself, and I need to know what she's planning. For all our sakes."

"Woah, slow down," Dan says. "'Put Chloe in your path?' Luce, that doesn't make any sense."

Lucifer shakes his head. He looks to Candy, who shrugs. "It's difficult to explain. Just, trust me when I say that Chlo—my partnership with the detective, every— _ anything  _ I may feel—it was all a manipulation."

Dan shifts restlessly, disbelieving. "You think Chloe's been lying to you?"

"No!" Lucifer insists. "No, she's had no choice! That's why I have to—"

He breaks off, but Dan gets the picture.

"You're protecting her," he says. "Or, trying to, because you're a dumbass who thinks  _ this  _ is a good solution."

Lucifer sighs and fixes his eyes on Dan's abandoned beer. "Candy's mostly here to help me deal with Mum, but yes, my intention was—I can acknowledge it's backfired somewhat, alright?"

He looks up again. "But it's still better than letting her think—"

"Why're you telling me all this?" Dan asks. "If you can't trust anyone."

"Well." Lucifer laughs humorlessly. "I'm quite certain dear old Dad didn't expect me to shack up with you."

Dan can't place the feeling in his gut—something that feels a little sick, a little hurt. Whatever game's been played around him, he doesn't think knowing the score would help him.

But Lucifer's hand in his—that's something he still understands.

"So how can I help?" he asks.

"Be patient with me a little longer," Lucifer begs, leaning in closer. "And I'll give you the long version when it's over."

Dan reaches for him, cupping his jaw, and tells him honestly, "I don't need the long version. I trust you."

Lucifer's eyes flutter shut as he leans into Dan's touch. His lips are parted slightly, at first, before he presses them together to contain his breathing.

"I'm afraid it's time I tell it," he says, still not looking. "It's… the only way to be sure. But if you'll just give me a few days—"

He opens his eyes again; they're wet. 

"—to have this a little longer?"

Candy draws her feet up when Dan pulls Luce into a kiss, sliding his hand to cup the back of his head. He touches their foreheads together and sighs out shakily.

"We can't stay here tonight," Luce murmurs reluctantly. "If Mum drops by Lux…"

"Yeah," Dan agrees. He drags his thumb across the edge of Lucifer's stubble. "I just—want a little longer, too."

Lucifer kisses him one more time, then leans away to glance at Candy. "I suppose we could stay for a few hours?"

Candy shoots him a knowing smile. "The snuggies are in my suitcase."

~*~

They go their separate ways that night with a plan for the next day, which basically boils down to Dan acting however he wants as long as he doesn't spill the beans.

Chloe pulls him into the interrogation room directly after lunch. She's already dressed to go undercover, in what's an honestly really accurate parody of how Candy dresses—down to the pink hair extensions.

"Hey," she says, her tone vaguely accusatory. "Why'd you tell Lucifer about the mediator?"

"Uh." Dan eyes the door. "Because he said he wanted to help?"

Chloe says, "Maybe I didn't want his help."

Dan winces, rubbing at his ear. "I just thought—"

"I mean, I don't understand how you can even  _ talk  _ to him right now," Chloe tells him, gesturing with one ring-laden hand. "Let alone basically  _ forgive  _ him, after what he—what he did to you."

Dan's stomach twists, but he says, "Oh, believe me, I'm still pissed at him. Just—not so much that I'm putting him out, okay?"

"Why not?" Chloe demands. "He was totally irresponsible! He totally abandoned you and you're acting like it's—"

"Why am I getting treated like I'm the one on trial here?" Dan throws his hands up in frustration. "We hashed it out, he knows he fucked up. Why are you so invested—"

"Because he left me too!" Chloe's voice cracks as the tears well up. "I almost  _ died,  _ Dan, and I—I  _ needed  _ him, and he just left. And I don't understand why he wouldn't want—I know maybe I don't have a right to ask for it, but we were partners, and I thought that still counted for something."

There's a knot in Dan's chest. He says, "This isn't just about Candy, is it? You're talking about—"

"No, no, I'm happy for you two," she insists, reaching for him, her voice wet and heavy and the thick mascara that must be waterproof staying exactly put on her face. "I just keep wondering—what it is that I don't… what I couldn't do that you did?"

Her hand flies up to her mouth immediately after—like she's horrified at the words that careened out—but Dan isn't watching her face or the smudge of electric pink lipstick that's now on her index finger.

He's thinking about scars, and Lucifer saying,  _ I'm not a good person, Daniel,  _ and the absolute scared-shitless terror of inviting someone over and shoving dirty clothes under the bed until the floor looks clean.

"You're looking at it backwards," he tells her, and for some reason he laughs. "It's so backwards."

"What?" Chloe frowns with worry. Her hand looks wrong touching his arm, with the fake nails. "Backwards? Dan, I don't—"

"He's not ready to believe you," Dan says softly. "What you do to him—he's not ready."

Chloe drops her hand, starts to shake her head in disbelief.

The door flies open, just then, with Lucifer on the other side saying, "Detective, we'll be late for—what's wrong?"

Chloe sniffs, using the fake fur coat to dab carefully at her eyes. "Nothing," she says. "Just, um, practicing. For the mediation."

"Right," Lucifer says warily, shooting Dan a questioning look. "Shall I drive?"

"Better drive separately," Chloe answers. Her voice is steady again, steely. "I'm sure you'll want to get home to your wife. Or is it Dan's turn?"

She brushes past him, heels clicking against the linoleum. He doesn't turn to watch her.

"I'm sorry," Dan says.

Lucifer smiles joylessly at something over Dan's shoulder. "For which part?"

~*~

Dan can't remember how he answers.

~*~

He's hanging out with Candy in his apartment when she decides to call Lucifer and bother him at work, keeping up appearances and all that. She had to deal with Lucifer's mom today, which Dan is deeply curious about, and also kind of too terrified to ask for details.

Except Luce gets cut off on the phone, and it sounds like he and Chloe might be in trouble. Dan doesn't stop to think about the fact that bringing Candy to what could be a shootout is a terrible idea until he's speeding down the highway.

It's over by the time they get there, though, and Candy slips back into character effortlessly when she runs up to Chloe looking for Lucifer.

("Dude's  _ totally  _ messed up," she tells Chloe, which Dan thinks qualifies as an understatement. And, "He talks about you all the time," which does too.)

Chloe looks to Dan like she's about to ask him something. He's not sure exactly what happened, but she looks—different than this afternoon, somehow. More like herself again.

But Luce walks back into the room, and Candy jumps on him immediately. That part might not be fake; she was pretty freaked out on the way over. Dan would probably be doing the same thing if there weren't so many unis around—but he rests a hand on Lucifer's shoulder instead.

"Ah, Candy, darling," Lucifer says stiltedly, helping Candy slide to her feet. "The detective isn't really a fan of PDA."

"No, it's fine," Chloe tells him. She looks between the three of them. "I'm just glad they're here for you."

Lucifer says, "Oh." He hugs Candy to his chest with one arm.

"See you tomorrow at the precinct," Chloe says on her way out. Dan's pretty sure that he catches the edge of a smile on her face before she turns the corner. "Don't be late."

Lucifer's mouth is hung open. He closes it halfway, then says, "Right. Well, the detective was my ride, so…"

Dan rolls his eyes, then pulls his keys out of his pocket to dangle them in front of Lucifer. "Where're we headed?"

"Drop me at Lux, if you would," Luce answers, leading Candy towards the door with an arm around her shoulders. "I think it's time I wrapped up this little adventure."

~*~

Dan and Candy meet him on the curb later that night, Dan rolling Candy's suitcase across the concrete behind him. 

"Well, the Oscar goes to: Candy Morningstar!" Lucifer announces. "Best supporting actor: Daniel Espinoza, of course."

Candy laughs, looking wryly up at him. "You think they bought it?"

"Oh, yes—my mother doesn't know what hit her," Lucifer tells them. "Thanks for helping me peek into that scheming head of hers."

Dan says, "You're welcome, babe."

"Hey, after what you did for me in Vegas? You saved my life," Candy says, which makes Dan raise his eyebrows. He never did get the full story there. "Pretty sure I'll owe you for the rest of it."

Lucifer smiles. "Let's call it even, shall we?"

"Yeah," Candy says. She tries to give the ring back, but Luce insists that she keep it—and his, too, which Dan feels a little weird about for reasons he can't totally describe.

It just—looked good on Lucifer's finger, maybe. Which is a thought Dan shouldn't be sitting with, even a little bit. But he can't make his chest stop hurting until long after Candy's car drives away.

"Daniel," Lucifer says. The wind is picking up and it nearly carries his voice away. "I know I promised to tell you—"

"The long version'll still be long tomorrow, won't it?" Dan cuts in. Maybe a little desperately. "Let's just go home."

Lucifer laughs softly, turning to look at him with downturned eyes. "If that's what you want."

~*~

Dan will always want to ask Lucifer to come home.

He wonders if he'll always be afraid of the answer.

~*~

Lucifer sits on Dan's desk, sometimes, if he's not sitting on Chloe's. The lieutenant offered to get him his own, but he declined. 

It used to drive Dan batshit, especially when he would be trying to do paperwork and Lucifer would brag about how stupid paperwork is and how he's so glad he doesn't have to do any, and kick his heels against the metal which would make this obnoxious reverbbing sound and ruin Dan's signature on whatever form he was signing.

Now, though—

Dan gets back from picking up their lunch and finds Lucifer ruining his appetite with a pudding cup, dragging his tongue slowly over the spoon and waggling his eyebrows when they lock eyes, and it just feels—

Well, Dan's thinking about how apparently they're gonna talk tonight, if Lucifer doesn't freak out and bail or something, and he doesn't know what Lucifer thinks he could say that would make this stop being worth it. 

They drive separately to Dan's apartment, which isn't that unusual, especially during the week, but Dan can't help but overanalyze it a little bit. It's normal through dinner on the couch, though, continuing their Netflix binge of  _ Santa Clarita Diet. _

Then Lucifer takes the dishes to the sink and doesn't wash them, and puts himself a little further away on the couch when he sits back down.

"Right," he says, sounding determined and unsteady all at once. "You've got sick days at work, right?"

"What?" Dan asks.

Lucifer shakes his head. "Daniel, I just—please know that I've never lied to you. About anything. But I know you haven't believed me, not really, so…"

"Luce," Dan says. "What haven't I believed?"

Lucifer doesn't answer, except for his eyes fluttering shut, and when he opens them—

Dan flips over the back of the couch when he scrambles away in shock, a shout punching out of his throat, because Lucifer's face, it's—

Back to the way it always is before Dan finishes pushing up onto his forearms, except for the way Lucifer looks like he's the one who's seen a monster.

Maybe he is.  _ "You'll change your mind one day."  _ It looked like all his skin was peeled off.  _ "Gonna have to try harder than that." _

Dan rasps, "Does it hurt?"

Lucifer's eyes are glassy. He asks, "What?"

"Your face, it looked like it—it was burned, or—" Dan swallows. He can feel bruises forming on his elbows, where they broke his fall. "Does it hurt?"

Lucifer shakes his head slowly, his mouth glitching between shapes, and faintly says, "Not in the slightest."

"Good," says Dan. And then, "Oh, God—am I going to Hell? Am I—because I'm—"

"Not for that," Lucifer answers. His voice is so soft. Dan wonders what it'd sound like while he's— "I'd never let it be for that."

Dan touches his own face—human skin, wet. He realizes, "Your dad—the one who did all that horrible stuff to you, and your mom?"

"Yes," Lucifer says.

Dan asks, "He's—they're? They're God." 

"Afraid so," Lucifer answers.

Dan feels—

Scars against his chest, a tear pooling in the crook of his thumb while his palm scrapes against stubble, a hand around his throat.

He says, "I'm glad I stopped going to church."

Lucifer blinks at him. "What?"

Dan waits; no strike of lightning, no sudden coughing up of blood. Underwhelming. 

"If they could do this to you," he says, carefully, like it's not too late to taste iron. "That's nothing I want to worship."

Lucifer isn't crying. He clears his throat like he could be and says, "You're coping with this remarkably well."

"I'm gonna puke my guts out in the bathroom as soon as you fall asleep," Dan says.

"I can live with that." Lucifer slides off the couch, onto his knees. "Remember to re-hydrate."

Dan nods. He sits up slowly, then kneels too. They're facing each other, trembling together, still not touching—it feels like eternity since they have. It hurts.

"Does anyone else know?" he asks.

"Doctor Linda."

"Is—" Dan laughs. "Is Maze a demon?"

Lucifer smiles crookedly. "In more ways than one."

"She babysits my daughter," says Dan.

Lucifer says, "I was as shocked as you are."

Dan reaches, tentatively, for Lucifer's hand. He bites his lip when Luce flips his palm up automatically, in offering.

"Why not Chloe?" he asks, curling his fingers over Lucifer's wrist.

Luce looks down, his eyebrows drawn. "Do you remember what I told you before—about my father manipulating me?"

Dan's heart pangs. "Yeah."

"I wasn't exaggerating," Lucifer explains. His voice is taut again, bitter. "My father, He—well, He had Amenadiel—"

Right. Angel brother. Jesus.

"—bless the detective's mother so that Chloe could be born. The fact that we met, and that I—it was all his doing."

Dan tries to say something, but he's finding it a little hard to breathe. He sits back on his thighs and manages, "Oh. That's—you're saying Chloe was—"

"Dear old Dad flipping me a celestial bird?"

"—made for you," Dan says. He chokes out a laugh and drops sideways against the couch, the edge of the cushion digging into his neck. 

Of course. Of course this is all—

"Darling, I'm the  _ Devil,"  _ Lucifer reminds him, speaking slowly. "Has that part not sunk in? I'm not sure why the offhand miracle or two is what's giving you pause in comparison."

Dan looks up at him, wide-eyed. "Chloe's a  _ miracle.  _ She's—I mean, shit, dude, she was already  _ Chloe." _

Lucifer laughs in confusion. "I don't understand."

"What could you want with me?" Dan asks quietly. "Either of you."

"Oh." Lucifer's face crumples, for a moment, before reorganizing into something...exasperated, maybe, as he leans over to cup Dan's cheek. "Did you fail Sunday School, love?"

Dan blinks. "What?"

"All I ever wanted was free will," Lucifer explains gently, brushing his thumb over Dan's cheek. "Waged a war for it, Fell for it. And when Father made Chloe for me, as it were—He took that from me. Again."

Dan parts his lips, but no sound comes out.

"And yes, I do—" Lucifer cuts off. His eyes are pained again, and Dan leans his face into his touch. "I do love the detective. But you've  _ given  _ me something, Dan—loving you is no one's choice but my own, don't you see? What could be more beautiful than that?"

Dan closes his eyes, gasping quietly for air like it'll keep him from crying, wanting to touch Lucifer's face or card fingers through his hair and forgetting how to use his hands. How to do anything.

"Luce," he manages, voice trembling, "will you kiss me?"

Lucifer pulls his hand away instead. "Daniel, it's all been quite a shock—I don't want you to feel—"

"Hey, dumbass," Dan says. He opens his eyes and smiles. "Kiss me."

Lucifer's face droops with something that must be fondness, or relief, the way he touches Dan again. "Very well."

And Dan tilts his face up to meet him, their lips grazing for one aching moment before they fall together, and his hands are numb but they find the buttons on Lucifer's shirt.

Dan never thought too hard about it—the whole schtick, convoluted metaphors—other than to wonder what could break someone and rearrange them like that. There was plenty he couldn't explain, but for a detective, Dan was pretty good at not looking too closely at things like that.

He drags his fingers down Lucifer's bare chest, feeling the shuddering flex of his stomach.

Lucifer was so afraid that Dan would hate him. Has been carrying that between skins, clinging to the good moments as they hurtled closer to this one, in case they ran out. Did it anyway.

_ You were so brave,  _ Dan thinks, with his teeth in Lucifer's mouth.  _ I hope I deserved it. _

What could he ever give back?

"Bed?" Dan whispers. "Please?"

Lucifer sighs into his mouth. "Okay."

They stumble there together half-undressed and fall back against the pillows. Lucifer kisses down Dan's stomach and helps him out of his jeans and boxers, suckling at the tender crease of his thigh.

His shoulders curve, shifting restlessly while he makes Dan squirm, and he looks so beautiful that Dan can't fucking take it.

He closes his eyes against hot tears, threads a hand through Lucifer's hair, and stutters, "I—I want… fuck, would you—fuck me?"

Lucifer looks up, Dan's hand slipping down to the base of his skull. "I thought you didn't want—that it made you uncomfortable."

"Babe," Dan tells him, opening his eyes. "I'm fucking the Devil."

"Yes," Lucifer says. He crawls back up the bed and nuzzles against Dan's jaw, gaze carefully averted. "So you should know that I care about what you  _ desire.  _ There are plenty of other—"

"I want this, Luce." Dan presses a kiss to his temple, breathing in the faint smell of sweat and shampoo in his hair. "I—I've  _ wanted,  _ but I haven't…"

He trails off. Lucifer lifts his head to tilt it at Dan with a warm, curious motion.

Dan cups his jaw and whispers, "I don't wanna be ashamed anymore. Not with you."

Luce smiles, turns his head to press it into Dan's palm. He murmurs, "In that case," and shifts to reach their sex drawer in the far nightstand.

Dan flops back against the pillows, watching Lucifer place the lube on the bed and then hold up a condom between two fingers.

"You know," he says, smirking. "We can still use one if you prefer, but I'm fairly certain the Devil can't get chlamydia."

Dan huffs out a laugh. His life is fucking ridiculous. But also—

"Ditch it," he says, trailing his fingers down Lucifer's arm. "And get back over here."

The condom flies across the room, which is definitely not what Dan meant but is probably his fault for not specifying, and then Lucifer is licking into Dan's mouth.

They kiss while Lucifer pops open the cap on the lube, arching his back when Dan squeezes his ass. He brings a slick finger down, tracing teasingly over Dan's hole, and Dan wriggles restlessly like he's pressing against a bruise—something aching that could be mistaken for relief, or relief for aching.

"Daniel," Lucifer asks, kissing at the corner of his mouth. "Do you trust me?"

Dan nods, hiding his face in Lucifer's neck.

"Then breathe, darling."

Dan does.

Lucifer presses his finger inside slowly, and it's—Dan sighs against his neck and puts his hands on careful places and thinks about the ways people love each other—with words and things and bodies—and it doesn't feel good or bad, as much as it feels like itself.

He's not supposed to be a philosophical person. He curls his toes in the sheets when Lucifer crooks his finger.

"Fuck," he gasps, and Lucifer murmurs, "Let me take my time," and Dan smacks him gently on the arm, biting back a laugh.

Luce pulls out to drizzle more lube over two fingers and slip them back in, though, and nibbles on Dan's earlobe.

Dan's gone a little soft with all the apprehension, but he rocks his hips up to rub off against Lucifer's stomach and laughs softly when Luce hums, pleased. They kiss again, kind of sloppy and giddy, and it makes Dan's heart hurt with an itching warmth.

Lucifer asks, "Are you ready, love?"

"Yeah," Dan says. "Yeah, please."

"Such good manners," Lucifer teases. "I'd like to ruin those."

Dan scrapes his nails across Lucifer's shoulder.

"Oh, that's better." Lucifer pulls out and slicks himself up, thumbing at a bead of precome at the tip. He's so beautiful. Has Dan ever told him that? "You haven't, but thank you, love."

Dan tilts his head back, baring his throat. 

Lucifer pushes in slowly, his eyes fluttering shut under the brush of Dan's fingertips, teeth flashing when he exhales. 

Dan's been inside Lucifer. Inside Chloe, and Charlotte, and other women, too. He wonders if it was like this for them—if it was always this trembling, raw thing and he never knew. He feels like there's blood in his throat.

Lucifer nuzzles his cheek and murmurs, "Alright, love?"

"Yeah," Dan tells him. "Yeah, it's—you're—"

He gives up, in the end, and arches his back to meet the next roll of Lucifer's hips instead.

Dan doesn't know where to put his hands. Against Lucifer's lower back, stroking his hair, fisted in the sheets. He likes the knobs of Lucifer's spine, the grip against his shoulders, but he worries about the scars. The way they throw off heat and the weight of something too gentle.

"You can touch them," Lucifer says. His voice crackles in time with the pleasure shooting up Dan's spine. "You can have anything."

"Luce—"

"I'd like you to, I think." Lucifer's face is pressed against Dan's cheek, damp. They're not fucking hard enough for it to be sweat. "I'd… I'd like you to."

Dan lifts his hands, shaking, and slides them up the curve of Lucifer's ribs. The scar tissue is mottled, smooth and strange and almost alive under Dan's touch, and he wraps his arms all the way around Lucifer's back and holds him when he starts to sob.

When Dan used to pray, it was silent, with his eyes closed. He does it that way now.

_ 'I don't know if you can hear me,'  _ he says. Not to God, exactly, but to someone's father.  _ 'I don't know if this was all part of some plan—if he's the person you wanted him to become, or if it's all in spite of you.' _

Lucifer rolls his hips slowly, another broken sound punching out of his throat, and whispers, "I love you, Dan. I love you."

_ 'But I'm glad it's this.'  _ Dan tilts Lucifer's chin up and kisses him, closer to worship than anything he's ever done.  _ 'I'm glad it's with me.' _

~*~

Dan splashes water onto his face in the bathroom, massaging at his eyebrows and swallowing down the distinct lack of nausea.

He thinks about shoving two fingers down his throat—just so that he won't have lied—but he's mostly trained himself out of the gag reflex, anyway.

~*~

"Holy shit." Dan sits bolt upright in bed, dislodging Lucifer from resting on his chest. "Did you actually invent jellyfish?"

Lucifer grumbles, "I'll send them all extinct if you don't go back to sleep," and burrows under the covers.

Dan slings an arm around his waist.

~*~

"So you're immortal?" Dan asks, tracing lazy circles over Lucifer's chest. They're sprawled in bed, sunlight streaming through the windows, with Lucifer's head in Dan's lap.

Dan's technically on call this weekend, but the people of LA have done him a favor and not murdered anyone in his jurisdiction so far.

"More or less," Lucifer drawls. He takes Dan by the wrist and kisses his palm.

Dan frowns. "What'll you do when I die?"

Lucifer tilts his head up to look him in the eye and asks, "What would you want me to do?"

"I don't know," says Dan.

"Then neither do I," Lucifer answers plainly. "Try not to get shot before we figure it out."

Dan flicks him on the ear.

He nips Dan on the wrist and releases him.

Dan goes back to caressing him absentmindedly. "And you said—is your Mom on Earth? Because Candy—"

"Er, yes." Lucifer stiffens slightly. "I was hoping you'd forget about that one."

"What?" Dan asks. "Why?"

Lucifer pushes onto a forearm, sitting up slightly off Dan's thigh, and looks up at him. "My mother is in the body formerly belonging to Charlotte Richards. Has been for some time, in fact."

_ "What?"  _ Dan repeats, flinching back. "For—for how long?"

Lucifer clears his throat. "Since the case last year, when she went missing from that hotel room? Charlotte was actually murdered, and, er, Mum escaped from Hell at that moment, and sort of—"

"Oh my God," Dan says. "Oh, Jesus, Lucifer, I fucked your mom."

"Yes," he answers tightly.

"Like, a  _ lot." _

_ "Please  _ stop reminding me."

Dan flops backwards onto the bed dramatically. He almost smacks his head on the wall, but Lucifer slips a pillow under him to soften the impact.

"Thanks," he says, and then, "No wonder you tackled me through that wall."

Lucifer shrugs with one shoulder. 

"Okay, so Charlotte Richards is actually—" Dan pauses. "What's, like, her title?"

"The Divine Goddess of Creation, I suppose." Lucifer lays down next to him and Dan rolls on his side to face him. "She was shafted, really, being written out of all the books—though it may be for the best, given all the plagues and what not."

"Cool," Dan says. "Super cool."

Lucifer tells him, "Don't worry, she won't be here forever."

"Why not?" Dan asks. "Did you and Candy figure out her plan?"

Lucifer says, off-hand as anything, "She wants to murder Father."

Dan's laugh is embarrassingly high-pitched.

"Well, don't worry!" Lucifer insists. "I'm not going to  _ help  _ her."

"Uh," Dan says. "That's good?"

"Directly, anyway."

There it is.

"Explain," Dan tells him, somewhat reluctantly.

"Well, we've found the flaming sword, you see—"

"Right. Cool."

"—and when we get up to the Silver City I'm going to kick her in and close the gates behind her."

Dan raises his eyebrows.

"They'll torture each other for eternity," Lucifer explains brightly. "And  _ finally _ leave me out of it."

Dan shakes his head incredulously. He cups Lucifer's jaw and asks, "Are you sure about this?"

"Very." Lucifer smirks. "Mum's the word, of course."

Dan comes super close to smothering him with a pillow. Not like it'd hurt, anyway.

~*~

** _Unknown number (7:29 PM): _ ** _ This is probably slightly unethical, but then again I think that ship sailed years ago, and also Lucifer is the one who gave me your number, so... _

** _Unknown number (7:30 PM): _ ** _ I'm establishing a support group for humans who have to put up with divinity on a daily basis. You bring the wine and I'll bring the terrifying existential crisis regarding the ontology of the universe. _

** _Daniel Espinoza (7:37 PM): _ ** _ What's ontology mean? _

** _Linda Martin (7:37 PM): _ ** _ Just bring the wine. _

~*~

So, Dan is friends with his boyfriend's therapist—which is actually one of the more  _ normal _ sentences that can describe his recent life, considering he's spending his lunch break brainstorming ways to ignite a magical sword that can kill celestials and cut through time and space itself.

"She said you were  _ broken?"  _ Dan asks, angrily crunching into an egg roll.

"In so many words, yes." Lucifer sets down his chopsticks and glances at Dan with wide eyes. "What if she's right? I'm starting to think that after Uriel—"

"Yeesh, the mood in here's heavy," Chloe says. She looks over at them while she digs her lunch out of the fridge. "What's wrong?"

Lucifer smiles disarmingly. "Ah, nothing for you to worry about, Detective. Daniel's just helping me with a… family matter."

Chloe frowns, setting the Tupperware down on the counter and turning to face them. "No, no—I want to help. What's wrong?"

"Er," says Lucifer.

Chloe scoffs, accusing, "You don't trust me?"

"It's not that," Lucifer insists. He looks at Dan for backup, but Dan shrugs helplessly. "I just—I don't know how to  _ explain  _ this in a way you'd understand. It's all so—"

"Seriously, Lucifer?" Chloe asks, her voice cracking. She looks around the room and then sits down across from them, covering Lucifer's hand with one of her own. "If you think, after all this time, that I couldn't forgive you for anything you've done, or that I don't want to understand—"

"Well, it's not about  _ wanting,  _ is it?" Lucifer snaps. Chloe draws her hand back and he flinches, lowering his voice again. "You'd have to believe me first."

Chloe says, "Try me."

Lucifer keeps looking at Dan for something. He's not sure what he's supposed to do, but he slides his hand onto Lucifer's knee.

"Right. Well," Lucifer says, taking a deep breath. He looks Chloe in the eye. "My mum is pressing me to ignite a flaming sword so that we can go back to Heaven, but I can't get the bloody thing to work and she thinks it's because I can't 'control my emotions' well enough."

Chloe stares at him for a long moment. Her eyes are starting to turn glassy, but she shakes them clear when she stands up.

"You know," she says, choking back something in her voice. "I keep caring, and you just—"

Dan tries, "Chlo—"

"Don't."

She turns and marches out of the room, the door swinging shut behind her.

Lucifer stares after her.

"Luce…" Dan scoots his chair closer to slide a soothing hand up his back. "I'm—"

Chloe throws the door back open, holding a finger up to warn them against speaking, and snags her forgotten lunch off the counter.

Lucifer puts his face in his hands when the door slams a second time.

"You could show her, you know," Dan says softly. His hand is still rubbing Lucifer's back and he should probably move it before someone sees, but he can't bring himself to. "If you want her to understand, why don't you?"

"I can't just—" Lucifer pulls one hand away from his face to stir his noodles glumly. "What if she can't accept me? What if it—if I ruin everything?"

Dan's heart pangs. He points out, "You showed me."

"You're  _ different,"  _ Lucifer says, and it's—

He probably means it as a compliment. Because they were already in love, or because Chloe can be a little sanctimonious and Dan's had the odd scumbag killed by the mob here and there.

But what Dan thinks first, and strongest, when he drops his hand, is that Chloe is a miracle. And Dan would've been easier to lose.

"Daniel," Lucifer says slowly, "I didn't mean…"

"Chloe loves you," Dan tells him, brushing it off. "And this thing will tear that apart."

Lucifer gapes at him.

"Isn't it exhausting, Luce?" Dan asks emphatically. "You're keeping her at arm's length because you're afraid she won't love you anymore, or that—that she didn't have a choice because of your Dad, but you're the one taking her choice away now."

Lucifer pushes his chair away from the table, away from Dan. "How  _ dare _ you  _ imply—" _

"I'm not implying it," Dan says. "I'm telling you. Tough love, babe."

Lucifer's shoulders droop, losing the defensiveness, and his voice cracks. "I don't know if I can do it, Daniel."

"You don't have to," Dan tells him. "But I think you'll regret it if you don't."

Lucifer shakes his head. "What do I do if she doesn't…"

Dan leans over, replacing his hand on Lucifer's knee. "I don't think that'll happen. After everything you've been through together? You saved her life, Luce—more than once."

"But if it does?" Lucifer insists.

"Then I'll still be here," Dan promises, managing a small smile. "No matter what."

He hopes it's enough.

~*~

"Are you sure you want me to be here?" Dan asks. He's at the penthouse, watching Lucifer pour another drink of bourbon and throw it back, knuckles too white against the glass.

Lucifer huffs out a laugh. "Fairly certain I couldn't go through with it otherwise."

Dan slips a hand around Lucifer's waist, reaching up to give him a kiss.

"It's gonna be fine," he promises. "Chloe can handle it."

Lucifer presses their foreheads together. "I hope you're—"

The elevator doors slide open and Chloe pokes her head into the room. "Lucifer? I got your text, what's—oh, you're both here."

"Ah, Detective." Lucifer puts his glass down on the bar, jumping slightly against Dan's hand. "Please, sit down."

Chloe narrows her eyes at him, but makes her way over to the couch and asks, "What's going on? Is it something to do with the new case?"

"Not exactly." Lucifer sits down on the other end from her. "I just… think that maybe it's time you knew the whole truth."

Dan is hovering awkwardly behind the couch, but he comes to sit on Lucifer's far side when he sees the way Chloe's face draws up warily.

"Lucifer," she says, "I don't understand."

Lucifer's palm flips up; Dan laces their fingers together and squeezes.

"Please understand—I've never lied to you," Lucifer tells her. He takes a long, slow breath. "But I've also known that you'd never believe me without proof. So… here it is."

Dan hasn't seen Lucifer's other face since that first night. He's seen the eyes a few times, when Lucifer was threatening a perp—they're usually enough on their own—but not like this.

His stomach still turns a little, on instinct, but he squeezes Luce's hand tighter, and doesn't look away.

Neither does Chloe, but it's more in the way people don't turn their backs on snarling animals.

She rises to her feet slowly, taking careful steps backwards, a hand hovering near the hip where her holster would be, if she were wearing it.

"What is this," she says, voice carefully even. "What did you just do?"

Lucifer's face is human again. He looks up at her and says softly, "I think you know."

"I don't—this isn't—Dan, how are you—" Chloe's eyes drop to where their hands are still linked, then up to his face. "You knew?"

Dan clears his throat. "Yeah."

"For how long?" she asks.

"About a month," he answers. "Maybe closer to two."

She's moving slowly enough that it's subtle, the path she's cutting—and she may be a better cop than him, but they went through the same training at the academy, so Dan gets it.

She's going for the door.

"Chloe," he begs. "Don't."

"How could you do this?" she asks incredulously. The back of her knee brushes against the coffee table and she side-steps to avoid it. "You—you let him around our  _ daughter.  _ You let  _ Maze—" _

"Detective," Lucifer cuts in, shifting on the couch like he wants to stand but maybe thinking better of it. "I swear to you that I would  _ never—" _

Chloe laughs, high-pitched and tinged with anger. "Lucifer, you're—you're the  _ Devil.  _ Every story that's ever been told, the—the—"

"You believe all that shit?" Dan snaps. "Over  _ him?  _ Chloe, it's—he's same person he was. Nothing's changed."

"I don't know," she says. Her eyes are wet. "I… I don't know. How can you just…?"

Lucifer stands up slowly, fingers slipping out of Dan's grip, shaking his head when Dan reaches for him again.

"It's alright, Daniel." He tilts his chin up and the face changes again, bloodied red and hopelessly scarred and with the same eyes, underneath—the ones that watch Trixie while she's sleeping and flutter shut when Dan touches him too gently. "The detective is right. This face, this monstrous side—it is a part of me. I can't ask—"

"It shouldn't  _ matter!"  _ Dan rises to his feet too, desperately, taking Lucifer's face in his hands. "Look at me, Luce. It doesn't matter."

Lucifer obeys, wide-eyed, charred bottom lip trembling. His skin is smooth like this, no stubble to scrape against Dan's hands.

Chloe's footsteps get louder, more determined.

"I love you," Dan whispers, over the sound of the elevator doors sliding open behind him, over the sound of them closing again. "Just look at me."

~*~

Lucifer tastes like cigarettes.

He always has a little bit, obviously—the faint sting of tobacco that Dan tries to ignore, so he doesn't miss the nicotine.

But it's been a week and three days since Chloe's spoken to either of them, other than to politely suggest that Lucifer take a vacation and inform Dan that Trixie will be staying at Penelope's house, and Luce has taken to chain smoking with half his body leaned out of Dan's bedroom window.

It can't kill him, obviously—but he sucks them down to the stub like he wishes they would, and then he kisses Dan with smoke still in his mouth.

Dan lets him even though it hurts. He's been trying to take more responsibility, lately.

~*~

** _Unknown number (3:00 PM): _ ** _ Hello, Dan. I received your phone number from Linda. I am requesting your help getting Lucifer to Lux tomorrow at 7 so that we can cheer him up after what happened with Chloe. _

** _Dan (3:12 PM): _ ** _ Why does everyone think they can just give my number out to anyone they want? _

** _Amenadiel? (3:12 PM): _ ** _ Does that mean you won't help us? _

** _Dan (3:14 PM): _ ** _ Didn't say that _

~*~

Dan casually lolls his head on Lucifer's shoulder the next evening after dinner, looks up at him, and asks, "When's the last time you checked on Lux?"

Lucifer raises an eyebrow. "I haven't, particularly. Why?"

"Don't you think you should?" Dan suggests. "I mean, keeping the 'brand' on point by making the rounds?"

"I suppose," Lucifer agrees reluctantly. "I just haven't really… felt up to it, if I'm being honest."

Yeah, that's why Dan needs to get him off this fucking couch. He squeezes Lucifer's knee and offers, "Why don't we go together? It'll be fun."

Lucifer hums noncommittally. "Maybe tomorrow, darling."

"Why not tonight?" Dan drags his fingers up Lucifer's thigh.

Lucifer gives him another eyebrow raise, saying, "You've never been one to complain about a night in. What's gotten into you?"

That's because Lucifer is almost always trying to drag Dan  _ out— _ to the point that his weird reluctance is actually freaking Dan out a little, because maybe things are worse than Dan thought. 

Not that he thinks Lucifer drowning himself in sex and booze is a stellar coping mechanism, but at least it's predictable. Which—

Dan can reflect on whether Lucifer practically moving into his boyfriend's apartment to do nothing besides cuddle and eat chips for breakfast and smoke cigarettes is a sign of emotional growth or impending crippling depression later. Right now, he needs to rescue a doomed surprise party.

"You got me," Dan says. He clears his throat and drags his teeth over his bottom lip. "I was, uh, actually thinking we could go up to the penthouse and, uh—try out that thing with the rope we talked about?"

Lucifer's entire face lights up. "The rope thing? All you had to do was _ask, _love!"

Okay, now Dan feels a little bad that they're  _ not  _ gonna do the rope thing. 

"Let's get changed," he says, tilting his face up to meet Lucifer in a kiss. It gets more heated than he means it to, with his tongue flicking into Lucifer's mouth and Lucifer's hand slipping under his shirt.

"Perhaps we can take our time with the undressing?" Lucifer suggests in a murmur. His hands are hot against Dan's ribs, blunt fingernails dragging across the skin. "Review the… particulars?"

Dan presses against him, both of them sliding down close to horizontal on the couch. 

"Yeah," he says, "let's do that."

~*~

"It's a good thing we're heading over to Lux," Lucifer says, frowning at his half of the closet with a pensive hand on one bare hip. "I'm running dangerously low on fresh suits."

Dan drops the sorta-clean tee shirt he was about to wear for the third time back to the floor. 

"Whatever you pick'll be great, babe," he says, pulling open a dresser drawer instead. "Let's just get going."

"Someone's eager." Lucifer turns toward him with a red shirt in each hand. "Which one of these?"

Dan squints. "They're the same color."

Lucifer looks down at the shirts he's holding up, scoffing indignantly, and then back at Dan. "They most certainly are  _ not." _

Dan shrugs, unapologetic, and grabs a clean shirt from his dresser.

~*~

** _Amenadiel? (7:35 PM): _ ** _ Where are you?? _

** _Dan (7:36 PM): _ ** _ Did you know that there's a difference between Venice Merlot and Deep Burgundy _

** _Dan (7:36 PM): _ ** _ Because I've been getting lectured on it for the past ten minutes _

** _Amenadiel? (7:38 PM): _ ** _ You copulate with him willingly. _

** _Dan (7:38 PM): _ ** _ I know. I kinda love it _

~*~

They make it to Lux before nine, which is honestly the most Dan feels like anyone could have expected of him anyway. The club hasn't even officially opened yet, so they won't get waylaid again downstairs.

Lucifer slips his hand into Dan's back pocket on the elevator ride up, rocking on his heels with anticipation. 

Dan wipes his palms on his thighs. He just hopes this goes well—maybe helps a little bit, at least, he doesn't know. 

The elevator doors open to reveal the penthouse, which is—

Kind of a mess, if Dan's being honest. Everyone  _ definitely  _ got into the booze while they were waiting, if the fact that Linda is attempting to play the piano and sing Billy Joel—despite the fact that Usher is blasting over the sound system—while Maze throws knives at Lucifer's ceiling is any indication. 

"Luci!" Amenadiel staggers over from behind the bar. He's holding a pink drink that looks suspiciously like a Cosmo. "You're finally here! Everyone, Lucifer is here!"

"Whoo!" Linda whoops and drags her fingers over the keys. "Hi, Lucifer!"

Lucifer laughs, shooting Dan a bemused glance, and then claps his hands together.

"Right, it's lovely to see you all, but I  _ am  _ afraid you'll have to leave." He cups a hand around back of Dan's neck. "Daniel and I are about to indulge in some  _ delightful  _ sexual acts which, sadly, I doubt he will want you to witness."

Amenadiel chokes on his cosmo; Maze just cackles.

"No, babe," Dan grits out, dragging a hand over his face. "They're here on purpose. It's a surprise party."

Lucifer turns to him with a look of utter betrayal. "So we're not doing the rope thing?"

"We can do the rope thing later!" Dan hisses, ignoring Lucifer's pouting. "Can you just—please?"

He gestures at the room at large.

Lucifer grins and says, "Right." He adjusts a cufflink before dragging Dan over to the bar. "It appears we have some catching up to do, love."

"Dan was supposed to get you here at seven," Maze tells him helpfully. She chucks another knife at the ceiling, where it lodges in the drywall. "We got tired of waiting."

"Oh." Lucifer waggles his eyebrows at Dan and teases, "Botched that one, did we? Perhaps we should've skipped the second round of—"

Dan sighs dramatically as he hands Luce a bottle of scotch. "I'm gonna kill you one of these days, man."

Lucifer quips, "Good luck with that without the detective around," and then the smile drops off his face.

No one says anything. Linda discreetly lowers the volume on the sound system.

"That's actually why we're here, Luci," Amenadiel tells him. He follows them back over to the bar and sets his glass down.

Lucifer shakes his head. "What are you on about?"

Amenadiel rests a hand on Lucifer's shoulder. "Look, what's happening with Chloe is terrible. And, while—"

"Not just for you," Maze points out bitterly.

"And while I still think she'll come around…" Amenadiel continues patiently. "We wanted to remind you that everyone here  _ loves  _ you. Exactly as you are, brother."

Dan covers Lucifer's hand where it's gripping the bottle of scotch.

"He's right, Lucifer," Linda says. "We—you're a  _ good man.  _ Above anything else. The real you—you can  _ share  _ that with us."

Maze does a  _ so-so  _ gesture with her hand. "I tolerate you."

Lucifer huffs out a surprised laugh. His eyes are shining, and he glances at Dan with something in them that reminds Dan of leaning over the balcony when spring had just faded into summer, before it all went to shit.

("I made that one myself, you know," Lucifer had said, pointing at the faint glow of a star above the light pollution of the city. Dan had obviously thought he was bullshitting—except for how true it felt, settling over Dan's heart. "One of the first. Did a right bang-up job."

"Looks pretty good from down here," Dan had said, and Lucifer had left half a cigarette burning on the bannister to kiss him.)

It's like that now, for a moment, before the wavering composure resettles and Lucifer clears his throat.

"Right," he says, kissing Dan on the temple before moving around the bar, bottle in hand. "Doctor, has Mazikeen taught you how to throw one of these yet? It's quite fun!"

That disaster incoming, Dan grabs himself a beer from the fridge, which he had to bribe Luce to be allowed to stash in the place.

Amenadiel hands him a bottle opener.

"Thanks, man," Dan says. He runs his thumb over the metal lip of it. "For all of this, I mean."

Amenadiel picks up his Cosmo again, taking a thoughtful sip. "Do you think it'll make a difference?"

Dan pops open his beer; he loses track of the bottle cap, which flies off somewhere and doesn't clatter audibly over the sound of Linda yelping when she chucks a throwing dagger at the wall, or Lucifer's delighted laughter when it actually sticks.

"Yeah, I do," he says. "Not overnight, probably. But it has to matter, right?"

"Now you sound like you’re asking me," Amenadiel answers wryly.

Dan takes a swig of his beer.

~*~

"Do you think she'll let me see Trixie again, eventually?" Lucifer asks, another four and three-quarters days later.

Dan shifts the arm wrapped around Lucifer's middle, surprised. They're cuddled up with  _ Body Bags 4  _ playing with the volume down low, and Dan's couch definitely wasn't made for two grown men to spoon on it, so it's hard to get a good look at Lucifer's face.

"Do you want to?" he asks. "I mean, you've been great with her, I just—you always say how you hate kids? I kinda worried you were just tolerating her."

"Well, I certainly have no desire to be anyone's 'father figure.'" Lucifer snorts and wriggles himself more firmly against Dan's chest, which presses Dan awkwardly into the back of the couch. "But I liked being… around."

Dan's heart pangs. He presses his face into Lucifer's neck and says, "I want you there."

"Yes, well." Lucifer brushes a brief smile against Dan's temple. "You're not the problem, love."

Dan sighs, sitting up slightly so that Lucifer's head rests on his chest. He thought it was getting easier again, after the party. And it was, or is—just not when he thinks about it.

"Look, I gave Chloe the week because I'm trying to be the bigger person here, and I thought maybe with time—" He breaks off, brushing his fingers up Lucifer's arm, then says firmly, "But we've got a custody agreement. She can't keep my kid from me, and she doesn't get to tell me who I have in my life."

Lucifer tilts his head up. "But surely it would be better to—"

"I'm her parent too," Dan snaps, the hot thing swelling in his throat keeping him from shying away from how Luce flinches. "I wasn't always a great one, sure—I fucked up when she was little. A lot. But I'm  _ trying  _ now, and Chloe doesn't get to treat me like I'm a bad dad because I'm in love with you."

"Daniel—"

"I mean, doesn't it count for something?" Dan asks. His voice cracks, and, fuck—he didn't want to make this about him. He was trying so hard, but he can't— "That I trust you? She thinks I'd be in love with you if you didn't deserve it?"

Lucifer's eyes are wet. He pushes up onto his forearms so they're at eye level, half on top of each other to keep from falling off the couch, and he cups Dan's cheek.

"It means…" he pauses, his voice soft and bewildered. "You have no idea how much it means to me, that you do."

_ Not everything,  _ Dan thinks. Or they wouldn't still both be wearing depression sweatpants on the sofa, after everything. But he can live with that.

"Luce," he says. "I'm so sorry, for everything. I never—"

Lucifer's phone starts to ring. He frowns, picking it up off the coffee table, and then sits up straight when he sees the caller ID:  _ 'Lux Staff Line.' _

"Better take this," he says reluctantly. "I've instructed not to call unless it's urgent."

Dan sits up too, giving him space.

Lucifer answers, "Hello?" and then, "No, why? … Oh! Is she alone? … No, that's fine, someone will come by within the hour. Thank you."

Lucifer hangs up and tells Dan, "Well, that's ironic."

"What is it?" Dan asks warily.

"It seems our little miscreant hitched a ride to Lux," Lucifer says. A wry smile edges onto his face. "Benjamin is making her a Shirley Temple as we speak."

_ "What?"  _ Dan pulls out his own phone and dials Chloe. 

She answers on the first ring, sounding pretty pissed about it. "Dan, I said I needed—"

"Why didn't you tell me she was missing?" Dan asks. He squeezes Lucifer on the shoulder as he stands up, like,  _ 'I'm not mad at you.' _

"What?" Chloe asks. "What're you talking about."

Dan walks into Trixie's bedroom and shuts the door. "Lucifer just got a call—apparently Trixie is at Lux, and I'm assuming Penelope didn't take her there."

Chloe says,  _ "What?"  _ in the exact same voice Dan used a minute ago. "I had no idea. I'm gonna  _ kill  _ Mom. How could she not notice—"

"I'm gonna go get her," Dan cuts in firmly. He hears Chloe suck in a breath to argue, but he keeps going. "You're at the precinct, aren't you? Do you really wanna leave her waiting that long?"

Chloe sighs. "No, you're right. But, Dan, I can't just…"

"Don't worry, I'll bring her to you, if that's what you mean." Dan scrubs a hand over his face. "Chlo… I've given you time, and we said we'd always do what's best for Trixie. Are you sure this is it?"

"I'm not sure of  _ anything," _ Chloe answers desperately. "How can  _ you  _ be?"

Dan sits down on the edge of Trixie's bed. There's a mountain of stuffed animals blocking the door to her closet that's tripled in size since the night he and Lucifer first kissed.

"It seemed obvious," he says. "It's him."

Chloe asks, "What if we're wrong? What if it's all been some—some trick, or?"

Dan plucks at his sweatpants, frustrated. "Maybe you should talk to Linda."

"Linda knows?" Chloe asks, the eyebrow raise clear in her voice.

Dan huffs out a laugh. "For way longer than either of us. Trust her, if you don't trust me."

"But, Dan," Chloe protests. "We're all  _ human.  _ This is—how could any of us—I was agnostic! I thought God was some abstract, cosmic…  _ life energy, _ not—"

"Not your partner's dad?" Dan guesses.

Chloe begs, "How can I believe anything anymore? Everything I thought was right or wrong, it's so beyond any of us."

It dawns on Dan slowly. He looks up, staring through the stuffed animal collection and the brightly colored clothes behind it.

"Not all of us," he says.

"What?" asks Chloe.

Dan asks, "Would you believe an angel?"

"Dan, I'm so beyond not okay with those words coming out of your mouth."

_ "Would  _ you?" Dan insists.

Chloe hesitates. "You're talking about Amenadiel, right? He's… pretty weird."

"Well, yeah." Dan snorts. "No one in that family's  _ well-adjusted.  _ But—he  _ is  _ an angel. Maybe he can… shed some light? I don't know."

Chloe pauses thoughtfully, then says, "I'll think about it. You should go get Trixie. I'll meet you at my place—Maze is off bounty hunting, anyway."

"Okay," Dan says, and then, because he's never been good at leaving well enough alone, "Let us stop for ice cream, or something. We can't let this happen again, Chlo."

Chloe sounds irritated again. "Ice cream is just gonna encourage her to do it again, if anything!"

"It gives Lucifer the chance to say goodbye," Dan says softly, closing his eyes to get through it. "I think you owe him that much, even if it's for her sake."

Chloe is quiet for a long time.

"You can take her for ice cream," she says. Her voice is wet, and if Dan regrets anything in his fucked up life, it's how easily he can picture her crying. "Don't… don't have him say goodbye. Not yet."

Dan laughs softly with relief. He's suddenly hyperaware of his knuckles, the way they're curled around the phone, and how she would brush her lips over them while they lay in bed and tell him that she loved him.

It's been a long time, but maybe he wasn't wrong—to remember her like that.

"Thank you," he says. "See you soon."

~*~

Amenadiel's pretty easy to convince to go along with it. He even offers to drive, which is actually a mistake because it turns out he's a shitty driver in the equal and directly opposite way of Lucifer—which is to say that he drives five miles below the speed limit and flips his turn signals a full quarter mile in advance.

** _Daniel [eggplant emoji] (5:32 PM): _ ** _ In an ironic twist of events, your brother is literally putting me through hell _

** _Luce (5:33 PM): _ ** _ [angel emoji, snail emoji, car emoji, globe emoji, eye roll emoji] _

Dan huffs out a laugh.

** _Daniel [eggplant emoji] (5:33 PM): _ ** _ Yep. _

"Dan," Amenadiel says. He waves at a driver who flips them off while speeding past them. "Did you hear me?"

Dan flips his phone face-down. "Oh, sorry, dude."

"I was just saying," Amenadiel repeats, "that for the purposes of this conversation, perhaps we shouldn't tell Chloe about my… situation."

"You have a situation?" Dan asks, raising his eyebrows.

Amenadiel glances over curiously before gluing his eyes to the road again. "What has my brother told you about me?"

"Uh, I dunno." Dan watches Amenadiel's face, the careful way his eyes scan the road and glance up at a stoplight. "That your dad always relied on you, I guess. That you're a warrior?"

Amenadiel doesn't react.

Dan quirks his lips, leaning against the corner where his seat meets the side of the car to angle towards Amenadiel.

"He said you used to be more of a dick," Dan says. "But even then, he knew you loved him."

Amenadiel laughs at that. "Well, Luci used to be more of one, too. But I felt the same."

Dan hums.

"That's really all he told you about me?" Amenadiel asks. Presses, really.

"I mean, besides the obvious," Dan says. "That you're the oldest—that you're an angel."

Amenadiel smiles, barely—one of those private ones that doesn't mean anything useful to someone watching. He comes to a full stop at the next red light, even though they're turning right and no one is coming.

"Thank you," he says, which makes no sense, and then, "No, this can't be it," when he finally makes the turn and they drive past the address—which looks like an abandoned church, of all fucking things.

"What?" Dan asks, craning his neck.

Amenadiel parallel parks down the block and locks the car as they walk back towards the building, squinting at the street numbers.

It's definitely abandoned. The place looks familiar, though, Dan just can't put his finger on—

"Is this a joke?" Amenadiel demands. "Did you  _ know?" _

"What?" Dan holds his hands up defensively. "I didn't even pick this place, man—Chloe did. I thought it was super weird she wouldn't just meet at the house or something."

Amenadiel's face is pained, looking between Dan and the church. Quietly, he says, "This is where our brother died. I had Maze take me here, after—"

He cuts off abruptly and makes no attempt to restart. Dan slowly reaches over to put a hand on his shoulder, giving him time to pull away. He doesn't.

"I'm so sorry, dude. But Chloe… she couldn't know that," Dan points out gently. "I mean, Luce barely told  _ me." _

"But  _ here?"  _ Amenadiel gestures at the graffiti on the aging stone. "This can't be random, Dan."

"But how could—" Dan cuts off, eyes following the arc of Amenadiel's hand and landing on a tag beneath one of the windows:  _ 'RIP F.L.'  _

There are angel wings bracketing the words. Dan feels a little sick.

"That's how she knows this place," he says, pointing reluctantly. "There was a case, back when Lucifer first started."

Amenadiel frowns at him. "A case?"

Dan explains softly, "A priest died here. I wasn't there, but from what Chloe said—I think him and Luce were… friends, maybe."

"My brother and a priest?" Amenadiel asks, skeptical—but then he laughs. "No, actually, I believe that. It's just like Luci, in a way."

Dan smiles lopsidedly. "Yeah."

"Maybe that's… why," Amenadiel says. He looks down at his feet, scuffing a shoe against the sidewalk. "Why Uriel brought him here. He must have known, right?"

Dan has no idea how any of this works—the things Uriel could have foreseen, or maybe just found out. He doesn't know what he could say that would make any of it better, even if there was some way to know.

He thinks about that at work, sometimes. How the answers he dredges up aren't to comforting questions— _ who killed my son, my daughter, my brother?  _ How it's an empty, reactionary thing, at the end of it.

Like standing outside an abandoned church, praying someone will unlearn their newfound faith in God.

Dan clears his throat and says, "We should get inside—if you still wanna do this."

"Yes." Amenadiel squares his shoulders, and Dan sees it, for a second— _ warrior.  _ "Let's go."

The place must have had its electricity cut off a long time ago, but the sun hasn't set yet, so light is streaming through the windows. Chloe is sitting in the third row, already turned to face them by the time Dan pushes the door open and takes in the room.

"Hey," she says. "Thanks for coming here."

Dan rests a reassuring hand on Amenadiel's back as they move forward to sit across from her, on the opposite side of the aisle. 

"I just have so many  _ questions,"  _ Chloe tells Amenadiel, shaking her head, and Dan is thinking about how there probably used to be weddings here.

Amenadiel says, "I'll do what I can to answer them."

Dan's eyes trace the path a bride or groom would walk down the aisle, colored lights cast in strange shapes from the stained glass, and land on the bloodstains on the pulpit.

It's weird, being here during the day. He knows the priest's murder happened at night. He imagines Uriel must have died at night, too.

That's the weird thing about being a cop, maybe. Dan knows people die all the time—in broad daylight and pitch black, suddenly and slowly—but the grief still makes it feel like something that happens after sundown.

Chloe is asking Amenadiel something about their other siblings—how many of them are there or why they're not on Earth but Amenadiel and Lucifer get to be here.

Dan's heard that whole story before. Lucifer had told it to him while they tried to make fried Reese's Cups at home, in Dan's apartment, because Trixie wanted "fun carnival food" and Lucifer had shrugged and asked,  _ 'How hard can it be?' _

(All the Reese's had melted into this weird chocolate-y goop. Lucifer had thumbed at a smudge of it on the corner of Dan's mouth and waggled his eyebrows while he licked it clean.)

So Dan stands up slowly, trailing his fingers down Amenadiel's arm, and wanders up towards the pulpit. He steps onto it slowly, making his way to the lectern. 

The church closed down after the shooting here, Dan knows. He wonders why—if no one wanted to take it over, because of what happened. If the people who came here went to some other congregation or lost their faith.

Lucifer talks about Uriel, a little. He doesn't talk about the priest. Maybe because it's been so long, or because there's grief without the guilt to latch onto.

_ 'Does any of it matter to you?'  _ Dan asks suddenly, looking up at the ceiling, eyes open.  _ 'Do you care when one of us dies? When we fall in love?' _

There's no answer, obviously. Dan drags his fingers across the dust on the lectern, leaving streaks of clear wood underneath.

"But you're the only other one here, on Earth," Chloe is saying. "Aren't you kind of, you know—biased."

"Chloe, I fought against my brother in a  _ war,"  _ Amenadiel answers. "I've been tasked, repeatedly, with bringing him back to Hell. And yet I'm still here. Why do you think that is?"

_ 'Does it bother you that I love him more than you?'  _ Dan asks. He glances over the lectern to the far side of the pulpit—more blood, more dust.  _ 'Does it even fucking register?' _

Chloe's voice is unsteady. "I don't know."

Gently, Amenadiel says, "It's because Lucifer  _ taught  _ me something—about how to love humanity."

_ 'Was there a point to all of it?'  _ Dan makes his way to the piano. It's covered with a sheet, which someone must have done. He thinks about Luce playing, can picture his voice without even closing his eyes.  _ 'Is it like they say—that you hurt him so he could have this?' _

"And that's the beautiful thing about it, Chloe," Amenadiel insists. "The way he loves this place—the way he loves  _ you— _ it's changing him, too."

Chloe asks, "Changing… him? How?"

"If the Devil can be redeemed," Amenadiel says softly, "then anyone can."

Dan's hand closes around the sheet, his stomach twisting up with—

"Redeemed?" Chloe repeats, her eyebrows furrowed.

"I think our father is forgiving Lucifer," Amenadiel says. He reaches out, touching Chloe's hand. "I think he's forgiving him through you."

Chloe gapes, speechless, and Dan—

_ Shut the  _ fuck _ up,  _ he thinks, so suddenly and violently that he's terrified that maybe he said it out loud. But neither of them turn to look at him, and it's—

He watches Amenadiel's face, something burning in his throat, and he doesn't blame him, exactly, because he gets it. That as much as rebellion saved Lucifer's life, in the end, Amenadiel survived by being the loyal one—the good soldier. Is still surviving.

But Dan thinks it again— _ shut up, you're wrong. _ That forgiveness isn't it at all. Dan knows it, in the aching places where the tendons meet his joints and he can feel Lucifer's lips brushing against the bone.

Chloe is saying something again; Amenadiel is saying something else.

Dan closes his eyes, finally, and parts his lips.

_ 'I'm glad you never answer us,'  _ he says.  _ 'Nothing you could say would make it better.' _

He curls the sheet against his fingers, feeling it scrape against his skin, and then lets it go. The others are still talking, so he pulls out his phone.

** _Daniel [eggplant emoji] (6:23 PM): _ ** _ I know you were gonna check on Lux but can you come back over tonight? _

** _Luce (6:23 PM): _ ** _ Is something wrong? _

Dan looks over at Chloe and Amenadiel—she's leaning over, covering his hand resting on his knee with both of her own.

** _Daniel [eggplant emoji] (6:24 PM): _ ** _ No, I just miss you _

** _Luce (6:24 PM): _ ** _ [sparkling pink heart emoji, house emoji, thumbs up emoji] _

"Dan," Chloe calls. When he looks up from his phone, he realizes they're both standing. "Are you ready to go?"

Dan pockets his phone and clears his throat. "Uh, yeah."

They walk slowly back to the entrance, and Dan reaches out and brushes his fingers over Chloe's elbow before they cross the threshold.

"Hey," he says quietly, nodding to Amenadiel when he slips out the door with a tilt of his head. "Why'd you bring us here?"

Chloe glances around quickly, potentially out of habit, like she's checking if anyone could be listening.

"Do you remember the priest who died here, Father Frank?" she asks.

"Yeah," Dan answers.

"He seemed to… know something, maybe. And… I don't know, Lucifer was so broken up when he died," Chloe explains, laughing sadly. "I know maybe it's silly, but I thought—maybe if I came here, he could see us? Maybe he'd… send me a sign or something, I don't know."

Dan shrugs. "I don't think that's stupid. I mean, we don't really know how any of it works, do we?"

"No," she agrees, "I guess we…"

She trails off, furrowing her eyebrows as she brings a hand to her mouth.

"What is it?" Dan asks, turning to follow her gaze. She's staring at the piano.

"You don't hear it?" she asks, wonder tinging her voice.

Dan glances back to her. "Hear what?"

"Nothing," she whispers. Her eyes are welling up with tears, but he can see the trembling edge of a smile peeking out from behind her fingers. "Nothing, let's… let's go."

Dan shakes his head, but he looks back one last time when he pulls the door shut behind them—just in case.

~*~

Lucifer lets himself into the apartment later that night. His shirt has a few extra buttons undone and there's a distinct lipstick smudge against his mouth, and it's such a relief to see him that way that Dan kisses him against the front door until he gasps for air with it chipping against his teeth.

"Darling," he says, tracing his hands up Dan's ribs. "Not that I'm complaining about the warm welcome, but—are you sure nothing's wrong?"

"You're not here to be forgiven," Dan tells him. He thinks it'd sound fiercer, if his throat weren't so raw. "Whatever anyone tries to tell you. You did the hardest thing in the fucking world when you left that place and it was the  _ right thing,  _ Luce."

Lucifer shakes his head. He keeps tracing his hands across Dan's arms, against his back—like he's trying to find somewhere to put them. 

"I was cast out, love," he reminds him gently. "I didn't—I didn't choose any of this."

"I know." Dan cups his jaw, brushing his thumb across his bottom lip. "But you started the rebellion, didn't you? Because you knew it was wrong, how things were."

"It just seemed so unfair," Lucifer admits. He swallows thickly, and he's looking at Dan but he isn't. The distance in his eyes, behind the ache. "That He made humanity so that you could love and it wouldn't hurt and He—"

He cuts off.

Dan pushes up, presses their foreheads together and closes his eyes. "Luce…"

"And I hurt all the time." Lucifer's voice shakes. "And no one even loved me for it."

"I do, now," Dan whispers. "I love you."

"Do you think He made me broken?" Lucifer asks, cracking over the words. "And that's why I Fell? Why I had to rule Hell and—and Chloe doesn't want me?"

Dan shakes his head, blinking until the welling tears clear and he can look Lucifer in the eye again.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you," he says. There's a smile on his face, not on purpose, but because it hurts so much to do anything else. "You weren't broken, Luce. You're trying to fix what  _ was.  _ And anyone who can't see that—"

"But what if I made it worse?" Lucifer insists. There's still lipstick against his mouth—purple-pink, looking a little like a bruise. "Free will, and love—it has a price, now, doesn't it? It  _ hurts." _

Dan traces his fingers along the line of Lucifer's stubble, feeling it scrape against the skin. He thinks about Amenadiel talking of redemption, about his daughter running away from home because she missed the thing that made her happy.

"It still had a price, before," he realizes, tilting Lucifer's face down to meet his again. "But obedience isn't love. Not anymore."

Lucifer kisses him, gentle teeth and bruising lips—like he can't decide how to do it, what the point is. 

It doesn't matter. There doesn't have to be a point.

Lucifer can kiss Dan because he wants to, because he likes the way Dan undoes the next three buttons on his shirt and scratches his fingernails through the hair on his chest—

And Dan can sink to his knees in the foyer, because he likes how it feels a little dirtier than going into the bedroom, because he doesn't want to wait.

"Daniel," Lucifer breathes out, trembling hands settling in Dan's hair while Dan works open his belt. "Oh, love—ah,  _ fuck." _

Dan hums and takes him a little deeper. He has more that he wanted to say, he thinks.  _ It doesn't hurt when it's you,  _ and,  _ it'd be worth it if it did.  _ His hands slide up the backs of Lucifer's thighs, pulling him closer.  _ I think you're a good person. One of the best I know,  _ and,  _ I loved you before that, too. It still doesn't matter. _

Lucifer's hips stutter. Too soon, especially if he's already come tonight. But Dan can hear him crying, softly, over the sound of Dan sucking back and drooling over his cock and breathing in sharply through his nose, and he thinks maybe they'll turn in early tonight.

He pictures how he'll hold him—spooning, maybe, with Lucifer's body curled up to fit against the curve of Dan's, or with Lucifer's face tucked safely against Dan's neck. How that'll be just as nice as this, as he wets a finger with spit and teases it over Lucifer's hole.

"Love," Lucifer gasps. "I'm—ah—close."

_ I know,  _ Dan thinks. He slips his finger in slowly, just teasing at the rim while he tongues at the foreskin, tasting the come splash into his mouth.  _ I know you. _

Lucifer drops to the floor and gathers Dan up in his arms, kissing the taste of himself clean from Dan's mouth—then leans Dan against the door and palms his dick through his jeans. 

"What do you want, darling?" he murmurs. His face is still wet. Dan smears away the tear tracks when he strokes his cheek. "Let me give it to you."

"Just this." Dan rocks up against Lucifer's hand, his mouth hanging open with the gritty pleasure of it and his teeth scraping against the side of Lucifer's neck. "Just you."

Lucifer hums, nuzzling Dan's temple, and suggests, "One adjustment?"

Dan jerks his head in a nod.

Lucifer nips at the tip of Dan's ear and pops open the button of his jeans, then shoves his hand down inside roughly. He can barely fit, with how hard Dan is, and his skin is almost cool against the hot ache of Dan  _ wanting. _

He's wet with precome, but not enough to make it slick. Luce can't even wrap his fingers around—or doesn't want to, anyway—and Dan is rutting up against him instead and kissing him and choking back sobs that lodge against Lucifer's other hand, where it presses into his throat.

"Oh, darling," Lucifer coos, nosing against his cheek. "Don't fight it. You're so pretty when you cry for me. Such a lovely thing."

Dan whites out when he comes. His ears are ringing and he can't feel his fingertips and Lucifer is whispering something against his mouth.

"Breathe, love," he's saying. "That's it."

Dan gasps raggedly, trying to laugh, maybe, but it sounds off. He tries to curl his hands in Lucifer's shirt and the fabric slips through.

Lucifer touches the side of Dan's neck. "I'm sorry, darling. Was it too much?"

"No," Dan manages. He goes for the shirt again and gets it, holding himself there. "It was—"

Lucifer waits, his eyes soft with patience.

"Do you believe me?" Dan asks instead.

Lucifer raises his eyebrows exasperatedly. "Which part?"

Dan gulps down another breath. He reaches with one hand, fingers outstretched, and strokes across the edge of a scar.

Lucifer's bottom lip quivers when he tries to speak, eyes shining.

"Yes," he says. "I believe I do."

~*~

Dan runs out of vacation days after two weeks. He goes back to work, because despite Tom's pretty much constant teasing, he doesn't  _ actually  _ want to be Lucifer's sugar baby.

(Lucifer had wrinkled up his nose the one time it came up at dinner and told Dan, "I will pay you money to  _ not  _ call me 'Daddy.'"

Dan had considered explaining that they were separate things, but it didn't really feel worth it.)

Anyway, Dan drops Lucifer off at Lux with a promise to meet up for lunch, and there's already a new case waiting for him at his desk when he gets to the precinct.

It looks like the detectives he'll be assisting processed it over the weekend, so Dan snags the file and goes to visit Ella to check on any lab results.

She looks up from a microscope when he walks in and her whole face lights up when she realizes it's him.

"Dan!" she greets, darting over to wrap him in a hug. He tosses the case file onto her desk and hugs her back, closing his eyes and leaning into it. "I missed you so much, buddy!"

"Hey, Ella. Missed you too." 

Ella pulls away and looks up at him. "Is Lucifer back too? It's been so quiet without you two!"

"Uh, no." Dan clears his throat awkwardly. "Luce—Lucifer's not back."

Ella frowns, then pulls Dan across the lab so they can snoop on Chloe, who's sitting at her desk and sipping on shitty precinct coffee.

"Do you know what happened?" she asks. It feels a little like they're in middle school. "I heard a rumour that Lucifer went back to Vegas, but Fitzsimmons from Narc said she saw him at Lux a few days ago, so—"

"He's not in Vegas," Dan cuts in. "What has Chloe been saying?"

"That's the weird part!" Ella answers, in the same tone of voice she uses when she's explaining a new clue she's just found. "Decker won't say  _ anything  _ about it. She gets  _ super  _ cagey whenever someone asks."

Dan winces. "Uh. Gotcha."

Ella moves away from the window and stands in front of her computer, leaning against the table. "But I think they must've had some kinda fight, right? I mean, Lucifer got  _ shotgun married  _ and he still showed back up for work. It must be pretty serious if he's staying away."

"Uh," Dan agrees, "yeah."

"Has he said anything to you?" Ella asks. "You guys are pretty close, right?"

See, this is definitely the kind of moment where Dan could go,  _ 'yeah, actually, if by close you mean he's my boyfriend.'  _ Which—

It's just kind of awkward, because he doesn't know how to go into the boyfriend thing without going into the being in love thing, which goes into the whole  _ 'I have an entire section of my closet dedicated to his Prada collection now and we've been keeping it from you for six months,'  _ thing, and actually maybe it's not that awkward, Dan is just chickenshit.

"Uh, yeah," he says instead. "We're close. We've talked about it a little, I guess."

Ella stares at him expectantly.

Dan grimaces and tells her, technically honestly, "I'm, uh, not sure I could explain it to you?"

"Okay, top secret, I get it." Ella sighs, giving one last glance towards Chloe before she looks back at Dan in earnest. "Can I at least ask for your advice on something?"

Dan slips his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, of course."

Ella drags her teeth over her bottom lip and says, "It's my birthday this weekend and I really wanted to have a party! But I'm worried if I invite both Lucifer and Chloe, it'll be awkward or something? But, I mean, how am I supposed to choose, dude?"

Jesus, it really is like they're in middle school. With no less looming presence of God, if Ella's school was anything like Dan's.

His heart pangs for her, though, and he can't help the general feeling of indignance that wells up after.

"Invite both of them," Dan tells her, reaching out to squeeze her arm reassuringly. "I'll take care of it, okay?"

"Are you sure?" Ella asks—but her face is already all lit up in gratitude, and it's not like Dan could possibly take it back after seeing that smile.

"Definitely." Dan reaches for his abandoned file and flashes the name of the case at her. "First, though—any forensics updates?"

Ella's grin stretches impossibly wider. "Ooh, yeah! See, I found this type of sand in the victim's shoe, which—"

Dan smiles back wryly and pulls up a chair.

~*~

After checking in with Ella and making a few phone calls to relatives for Park and Weaver, Dan finally makes his way over to Chloe's desk. It seems like she hasn't caught a body recently—paperwork is strewn all around and she hasn't left the station all morning, which means she's probably following up on older cases.

"Uh, hey," he says, tapping his fingers on the edge of the desk awkwardly. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

Chloe looks up expectantly. "Oh, hey. Sure, what's up?"

Aggressively normal. Dan can deal with that.

"Uh, did you know it's Ella's birthday this weekend?" he asks.

"Of course." Chloe flips the file she's holding closed. "It's on my calendar. I was gonna take her out for drinks, why?"

Right, of course.

"She wants to have a party," Dan tells her, rubbing the back of his neck. "And she's, uh—worried that she can't invite you and Lucifer without there being a problem or something."

"Why would there be a problem?" Chloe asks evenly. She sets the folder down on her desk and plucks another one up, seemingly at random. "I just won't go."

Dan blinks. "What?"

"If you wanna go with him, we can trade weekends with Trixie," she adds.

Dan says, "Chloe, that's not what I meant."

Chloe glances up at him again. "Look, Dan—I'm the one making this weird. I get that, I do. So I'll take Ella out for drinks the night before or something, and you and Lucifer can do whatever you want."

"He's not just gonna go for that," Dan points out. Chloe shrugs minutely, reaching for a pen from her desk organizer. "You know he'll blame himself for, like, ruining the party, right?"

"I can't be responsible for him," Chloe snaps, exasperated.

Dan puts his hands up and says, "That's not what I meant," even though, yeah, on some level it was.

Maybe they're all a little responsible for each other, at this point.

Chloe flips a page over and scribbles a note in the margins, her pen scratching aggressively against the paper.

"He's picking me up for lunch," Dan says eventually. "Maybe you could tell him yourself, at least. Or he might just not go either."

Chloe taps her pen against the folder, a few strands of hair falling in her face.

"Does he even want to see me?" she asks him quietly, not looking up.

Dan feels bad about laughing, seriously. It's just—

"Are you kidding?" Dan answers. "Of course he does. Chloe, it's not too late to—"

"You know, I just have a lot to do," Chloe cuts in. She brushes her hair behind her ear and glances at him—eyes a little too honest, like always. "Why don't you text me when he gets here?"

Dan raps his knuckles against her desk as he moves away. "I can do that, yeah."

~*~

Chloe meets the two of them outside the precinct, her hair tied up in a fresh ponytail and her hands deep in her pockets while she walks.

"Detective!" Lucifer says, raising his eyebrows. "Ah, hello?"

"Hi, Lucifer." Chloe looks down as she clears her throat, then back up. "You, uh… you look good."

"Oh, well." Lucifer fidgets with his suit jacket, keeping his voice carefully bright and a little neutral. "Likewise, naturally."

Neither of them says anything else for a long moment. Dan is starting to think he's gonna have to break the silence himself when Chloe finally says, "So, um, about this weekend…"

"Oh, not to worry about that," Lucifer tells her. "I know your offspring is staying with Daniel—I've already planned to make myself scarce."

Dan turns to him, touching at his shoulder. "Babe, I told you, you don't have to—"

"I know, darling, and I appreciate the sentiment," Lucifer says. He brushes his hand over Dan's and then meets Chloe's gaze again. "But I want to respect the detective's wishes, too. If she doesn't feel comfortable—"

"What?" Chloe asks. "Lucifer, that's not what this is about. It's Ella's birthday."

"Oh," says Lucifer.

Chloe tells him, "She's, um, having a party this weekend, so—"

"It won't be a problem," Lucifer cuts in. "I'll send a gift along with Daniel. Or, better for it to be anonymous, do you think?"

Chloe looks to Dan with exasperation; he tilts his head at her, like,  _ 'told you so.' _

"Lucifer, that's not what I mean either," she says. "I'm—I want you to go, actually. Not me."

Lucifer furrows his eyebrows. "Detective, that's really not—I understand that you don't trust me around your loved ones, that it isn't—"

"No, no." Chloe shakes her head emphatically, reaches for him, changes her mind with her hand still stuck half-extended. "I want you to go, Lucifer. I don't—it's on me, all of this, and I'm sorry. I'm just still trying to wrap my head around it all."

Lucifer's fingertips brush against Dan's hip—maybe subconsciously. He says, "I don't understand."

"I want you to be happy," Chloe says. She swallows, like she's trying to keep her composure. "I just… don't know if it can be with me."

Lucifer purses his lips, staring somewhere past Chloe's left earlobe. 

"Very well," he says. "If this is what you want."

Chloe nods a few times, moving as if to brush the hair away from her face even though it's pulled tightly back.

"No, yeah, that's—it is." She clears her throat. "I hope you have a good time at the party."

Lucifer says, "Thank you," and then turns to Dan, touching at his elbow. "Shall we, darling?"

Dan coughs in the back of his throat. "Uh, yeah. Let's go."

Chloe watches them leave. Dan knows, because they both turn to look.

~*~

"Would you believe that I was?" asks Lucifer. "Happy."

Dan is looking out the window, watching the city blur past. His hand is covering Lucifer's on the stick shift, and he can hear the thing breaking in Lucifer's voice when he told Chloe goodbye as clearly as he can picture the feel of stubble against his thigh.

"I would if you told me," Dan says. "Should I ask you?"

Lucifer smiles at the traffic lights, lifting his thumb to stroke it across Dan's pinky, and says, "Not today, love."

~*~

Chloe texts Dan on Thursday afternoon, asking him to meet her at the coffee shop around the block after work. She's literally sitting across the room from him when she does it, which—

Dan has no idea what to do with that.

He shows up, though, and gets a decaf latte to have something to do with his hands that isn't the inevitable reach for her across the little table.

She picked a seat near the window, facing the entrance because at some point she stopped putting her back to the door when Dan was around. He wonders if it was on purpose—unofficial terms of the divorce proceedings, maybe—or just one of those things that happens.

"Hey," he says, and he doesn't drag his chair around to face the door, too. "What's up?"

"I just, um, wanted to talk," Chloe tells her coffee, frowning. "About… you know, everything?"

Dan thumbs at the cardboard sleeve around his to-go cup. "Uh, sure."

She looks up, searching for something on his face. "I guess I still don't understand how you're taking the whole  _ literal Devil  _ thing so well. I mean, on the grand scale."

"I mean, I've had a lot longer to process it," Dan points out. He quirks his lips self-deprecatingly. "Linda and I drink a lot."

"But you didn't, you know—" Chloe leans in closer, lowering her voice. "Didn't a part of you just want to, you know, grab Trixie and take the next flight out of the country and never come back or something?"

Dan blinks. "...No? Did you?"

Chloe huffs, leaning back in her chair and gesturing vaguely at him. "See, how are you doing that?"

"I dunno, Chlo, I guess part of it is, like…" Dan pauses, watching her face. "I mean, you grew up thinking that God was, like, probably not real, right?"

Chloe shrugs.

"I grew up thinking He was," Dan says. "And the older I got, the more I felt like I didn't like Him and He probably didn't like me that much either."

Chloe opens her mouth like she wants to say something, but Dan continues, "Turns out I was right. But Lucifer  _ does  _ want me."

"But that's the thing," Chloe insists. "Don't you just feel so—so  _ small?" _

Dan asks, "What do you mean?"

"Think about it, Dan. Lucifer is  _ immortal.  _ We're gonna live, what, eighty years if the job doesn't take us out?" Chloe laughs in disbelief. "That must be  _ nothing  _ to him. How could someone like you or me make a difference, in the long run?"

Dan furrows his eyebrows, trying to untangle his reaction.

_ "What'll you do when I die?" _

_ "What would you want me to do?" _

He looks up with a half-smile, feeling bittersweet and—

Less terrified than he could be, maybe.

"I mean, we were married for what, ten years?" he says. She narrows her eyes at him like she's wondering what the point is. "I wouldn't say it didn't mean anything, just because it's over."

Chloe's expression softens; she brushes her fingers across his wrist, where it's bent firmly against his coffee.

"I wouldn't either," she says, a smile flickering across her face. "But, Dan—we're both still  _ human." _

Dan pushes the annoyance out of his voice. "I don't get what you want from me, Chlo. I mean—"

"How could he love us?" Chloe asks quietly, incredulously. "How could we love him back in a way that matters?"

And it should hurt, and Dan should be scared shitless, and it should feel like the world is fucking ending because they're trapped in something so far beyond their comprehension that it's staggering. But when he tries to feel any of that—

_ ("Daniel? _ " Lucifer had said.  _ "I'm frightened. It hurts.") _

"He Fell for it," Dan says. "It's the first thing he ever wanted."

The only thing, maybe.

Chloe's hands drop to the table. She looks a little like she did when she was dying—filled with terror and then suddenly at peace all at once, like she'd evaluated all the evidence and found it the better option.

"Oh," she says.

Dan's coffee burns his tongue. He puts it back down on the table and keeps his hands around it.

"Oh," she says again. "Thank you."

Dan tells her, "Chloe, it's—"

"Thank you for loving him," she says. She stands up, leaving her mug on the table, presses shaking fingertips against his cheek for half a second, maybe less. "I'm sorry. Thank you for loving me."

She disappears through the door, blending into the crowd on the sidewalk. A little bell jingles behind her.

Dan takes her seat by the window and finishes his coffee.

~*~

"You know," Dan says, pausing to fold another strip of tape over itself. He's trying to pin a  _ 'Happy Birthday'  _ banner above all the liquor bottles behind the bar, standing on the bartop to do it because apparently Lucifer doesn't own a  _ ladder. _ "I still don't get how we went from going to this party to hosting it."

"Miss Lopez only turns twenty-nine once, Daniel," Lucifer says, popping one of those little red cherries into his mouth. "She deserves the very best, don't you think?"

"I just feel like reserving the entire club is— _ shit."  _ The banner unsticks and Dan slaps a hand out to catch it on instinct, making his feet slip against the bar.

Lucifer steadies him at the hip and tuts, "Careful, love. One of us is rather more breakable than the other."

Dan grumbles under his breath, "Then why am I the one standing up here?"

"Because I like watching you work, darling." Lucifer waggles his eyebrows and bites into another cherry, white teeth sharp against the split flesh.

Dan wonders if he's fixating because it's a Devil thing or just, like, maybe he's a little horny.

Either way.

"Okay, hopefully this'll stay up," he says, slapping more double-stick tape on the banner and pressing it back against the wall. "I'm just gonna—"

Luce wraps an arm around Dan's waist and spins him onto the ground, which is totally unnecessary because Dan is a grown-ass man who can climb off a counter by himself, but also—

"Do I even weigh anything to you?" Dan asks, reeling Lucifer in by the shirt.

Lucifer goes easily, bracing his hands behind Dan on the bar and brushing their hips together. "Not particularly."

So, yeah, sue him, Dan's a little horny.

He drags his teeth over Lucifer's bottom lip and mutters, "You could throw me around a little more, you know," when it pops free.

"Oh?" Lucifer purrs. "Well, there's a perfectly serviceable bed upstairs for that—or some lovely couches down here. Are you asking me to ravish you, Detective?"

Dan's breath catches in his throat. He locks eyes with Luce, watching them flash with the kind of hot want that he'll never totally believe is really for him.

He asks, "How much time do we—"

"Miss  _ Lopez!" _ Lucifer says loudly, pushing away from the bar with a cheerful grin. "What a pleasant and rather early surprise!"

Dan tilts his head up to the ceiling.

"I know, I know," Ella says, her footsteps echoing softly down the stairs. "You said you didn't need help setting up. But you're being so nice hosting the whole thing and it didn't feel right not to help!"

"Completely unnecessary, as you can see I have Daniel here to assist me," Lucifer answers brightly. He cups Dan's semi through his jeans and giving a teasing squeeze. 

"Bastard," Dan mutters.

"If only," Lucifer quips under his breath—but he's pretty pointedly not moving from behind the bar either, which is gratifying. He raises his voice to address Ella again. "Why don't you go get yourself a… birthday coffee and come back later, when we're all set up?"

Ella waves a hand at him dismissively and holds up a canvas bag with the other. "Aw, don't worry, buddy, I don't mind! Besides, I brought snacks!"

Lucifer purses his lips around his continued smile. "Ah, lovely. You do realize I've hired a caterer, yes?"

Dan socks him on the hip in a way that roughly translates to,  _ 'Were you gonna fuck me on the couch when the caterer was about to show up?' _

Lucifer plucks another cherry out of the abandoned jar on the counter, which means yes.

"But does the caterer have chips and homemade salsa?" Ella counters, raising her eyebrows and hefting the bag onto the bar next to Dan's elbow.

Lucifer huffs out a defeated laugh. "That they do not."

"Besides," Ella tells him, "I've  _ missed  _ you, buddy! It's been way too long. I was hoping we could get some quality time in before it's loud and crazy in here."

Lucifer's smile loses the wooden quality, softening around the eyes. He clears his throat and hefts the salsa bowl out of the bag.

"You might've led with that, dear," he answers. "I've missed you, as well."

"Look, Luce, I don't know what's going on with you and Decker," Ella says, ripping open a bag of tortilla chips. "And it's chill, you don't have to tell me. But you could've called!"

Dan leans over to grab a chip, brushing a hand across Lucifer's lower back while he does.

Lucifer says, "I wasn't sure that I could."

"Of course, dude, you're my  _ friend."  _ Ella dunks her chip into the salsa emphatically. "I mean, I tried to stop by Lux a couple times to visit you, but you weren't around—did you leave town for a while?"

"Ah, no," Lucifer says. "But I suppose I've been spending quite a bit of time with my lover."

Dan almost spits out his tortilla chip.

"Wait, 'lover' as in  _ singular?"  _ Ella asks, raising her eyebrows. "Are you  _ okay?" _

"Largely." Lucifer frowns. "Is it really so odd that I'd have a steady lover?"

Dan gripes, "You could just say 'boyfriend' like a normal person, dude."

Lucifer wrinkles his nose. "That term just seems so… reductionary. And 'partner' is rather confusing, considering its other connotations."

Ella hops up onto a barstool and leans forward on her elbows. "Dude, whatever you call it, that's awesome! I wanna know everything! What's he like? Ooh, do you have a picture?"

Dan grabs a bottle of Bacardi and pours himself a drink.

"Ah, no pictures, I'm afraid," Luce answers. "He's on the shy side, with the whole—"

He makes a blowjob gesture with his tongue in his cheek, clicking lewdly.

Dan rolls his eyes while he throws back his shot.

"Aw, I totally get that," Ella says. "But you can still tell me about him, right? I mean, he must be pretty great if you're spending so much time together. What's he like?"

Christ, this is so awkward. Not more awkward than Dan is, like, morbidly curious, but still.

"Ah, well, frankly he's rather boring," Lucifer says, deliberately ignoring the glare Dan shoots him. "Which I suspect has something to do with the fact that he has a daughter—and as you know, I detest children, but this one is actually quite tolerable."

Ella laughs with surprise. "He's got a kid? Like, how old?"

Lucifer breezes past that one. "And despite my best efforts, his fashion sense has  _ barely  _ improved—"

"Aw, c'mon, man," Dan whines.

Lucifer's lips twitch.

"Oh, do you know him, Dan?" Ella asks, eyes widened curiously.

"Uh," says Dan.

"That's actually a fascinating question, Miss Lopez," Lucifer tells her, shooting Dan a smug sideways glance. "What does it truly mean to  _ 'know'  _ someone?"

Dan scrubs a hand over his face. "Let's just go with 'yeah.'"

"But," Lucifer says, folding his hands neatly against the bar and looking Ella in the eye. "To take your request seriously?"

"Yeah, dude."

Lucifer pauses for a moment, tongue peeking out from between his lips like he's gathering his thoughts, and says, "He's very loyal, and considerate—bit of a sap, really, which I hadn't expected. He has an excellent sense of humor and a better taste in film. And, I think, most importantly…"

Dan turns to him, halfway, his chest seized up and aching, and presses his fingertips into the bar to keep them from doing anything else.

Luce turns to him too, with the soft droop of his eyebrows and the gentle, private thing in the curve of his mouth, and tells him, "I have never once questioned that he loves me, exactly as I am."

_ You never will,  _ Dan thinks. Wants so fucking badly to say to him—does it with a pour of rum into a shot glass, slid across the bar and into a waiting hand.  _ You never will, God help me. _

Old habits.

Ella covers her mouth and squeals. "Aw, Luci _ , you're  _ a big sap and I'm so happy for you! Bring it in, buddy!"

Lucifer folds into her hug from across the bar willingly, rolling onto his toes so he can rest his chin all the way on her shoulder. Dan takes the opportunity to run a hand up Lucifer's back in comfort.

"Whoever this guy is," Ella says as she sits back down, "he's one lucky dude, you know that?"

Dan clears his throat while Lucifer downs the rum. "I'm sure he does, too."

Lucifer sets the glass back down and raises a pointed eyebrow at him, which does nothing to hide the shine in his eyes. "Likewise."

"Okay!" Ella claps her hands together. "Chips and party prep—let's go!"

Dan forgives her for the cockblock, all things considered.

~*~

People start filing in for the party about an hour and a half later, after the caterer and DJ have set up and Lucifer has crowned Ella with a 'birthday girl' tiara.

It starts off pretty chill, with people eating and grabbing drinks at the bar—staffed by Benjamin, which means Dan will be drinking nothing but adult science experiments all night. Ella introduces Dan to her other friends, who are mostly super nerdy people she met at conventions and shit.

Luce has clearly been tasked with getting people on the dance floor—either by himself or by Ella, it's hard to say—because he keeps dragging groups out there and dancing with them for a song or two before going back on the hunt. 

He looks like he's having the time of his life. Dan smiles into his electric blue bastardized mojito.

Dan's trying to explain the weird booze thing to Fitzsimmons and her girlfriend when Lucifer approaches them and bows with a flourish, holding a hand out to Dan.

Dan laughs and takes his hand, ditching the mojito on the bartop and letting himself be led out onto the floor. 

It's pretty goofy dancing, all things considered, and Dan would maybe be a little self-conscious about it anyway if Luce weren't beaming at him while they jump around to  _ Manic Monday.  _ It's just—good to see him like this.

Dan can swallow a sideways glance or two.

He slides a hand up to Luce's shoulder and shouts, "I love you!" into his ear.

Lucifer's lips brush discreetly against his temple. "Likewise, as you—"

"Hey," says Chloe. "Mind if I cut in?"

Dan takes a half-step back on reflex, blinking to make sure he's not, like, fucking hallucinating.

He isn't—of course he knows her voice. She's standing in front of them, leather jacket over a thin green sweater and a nervous, careful smile on her face.

"Detective," Lucifer says with wonder. His hand slowly slips out of Dan's grip. "I… don't know what to say."

"What," Chloe jokes lightly, gesturing between the two of them. "You can't tell me you don't dance."

Dan squeezes Lucifer's shoulder and moves the full step away.

Chloe shoots him a knowing glance, sliding into the space he leaves and resting her hand on Lucifer's arm.

"I wasn't sure that I'd see you again," Luce tells her, slowly, like the hand reaching for her hip. He looks like he could burst at any second, if you touched him wrong. "I thought… that you couldn't accept me—the real me."

"Hm. I think this is the real you," Chloe says, lacing their fingers together. She looks up at him as they start to sway, half-time to the music. "I'm sorry it took me so long. It's not too late, is it?"

Lucifer laughs with disbelief, eyes shining. "Never for you, Detective."

Dan slips away quietly, letting himself get lost in the crowd on the dance floor, making his way back to the bar. He spots a familiar face at the end of it—she looks like she just got here.

"Excuse me," he says, pulling out a stool. "Is this seat taken?"

Linda smiles warmly at him, gesturing with her glass of wine. "Oh! Yes, actually. I'm waiting for my friend—have you seen him? Handsome cop, about yea-tall?"

Dan huffs out a laugh, but he's not in the mood to continue the bit.

He looks back over the club, finding Luce and Chloe again. They're laughing and spinning around into the next song, and Lucifer leans down to say something in Chloe's ear that makes her grin wider.

They look good together—right. It's what Dan wanted, at the end of it. For his faith in her to not be misplaced, and for Luce—

Well. Dan wanted that look to be on Lucifer's face.

And he's not thinking, exactly, that he's gonna get dumped tomorrow or even at all, outright—he knows that Luce loves him, and that it isn't for nothing just because he loves Chloe too.

It's just that—

Maybe Dan was the thing Lucifer needed, for a while, and he'll stop being that now that Chloe can reach up and touch his cheek, both of them on the edge of tears in the middle of a crowded club. And that's okay. 

It doesn't have to last forever to have meant something.

"Do you know why I was so happy to meet you?" Linda asks.

Dan turns to her, startled.

She nods towards Lucifer and Chloe in acknowledgement, then says, "As a therapist, I have a lot of hopes for my patients, you know."

Dan borrows her wine glass and takes a drink.

"And I don't get to decide if they come true. I don't get to tell them where to go, or who to build their lives with." Linda is still watching Lucifer twirl Chloe around, but she reaches over and covers Dan's hand with her own. "I just… get to hope. That one day they won't need me anymore, and they'll learn to accept the love they deserve."

The song ends, and Lucifer dips down to murmur something in Chloe's ear. She smiles and moves away, peering over the crowd—maybe looking for Ella.

Dan's throat feels tight. He says, "I don't understand."

Lucifer turns their way, lighting up when he locks eyes with Dan, and starts making his way their direction.

"Thank you," Linda says simply, which isn't an answer, except that it is.

"Pardon me, darling," Lucifer tells Linda, bending to press a quick kiss to her cheek. "But I believe my love owes me the remainder of a dance."

Dan swallows to clear his throat and asks, "Are you sure? If you wanna see Chloe—"

"I'm sure I will again later," Luce says warmly. He drags his fingers up Dan's arm. "Indulge me?"

"Sure," Dan says. "Of course."

Lucifer pulls him back out onto the dance floor, warm hand in his. He leans in close enough to not have to shout and asks, "Why do you seem so surprised, love?"

Dan rests a hand on Lucifer's hip and says, "You just got Chloe back. I mean, for  _ real.  _ I guess part of me thought…"

"I see." Lucifer smirks fondly. "Well, it's a good thing I didn't tell Miss Lopez that you were clever."

Dan laughs and socks him on the chest. "Dick."

"Later, perhaps?" Luce suggests, waggling his eyebrows. He sobers slightly, though, and parts his lips before speaking. "Yes, of course I want to be with the detective, whatever form that may take. But, Daniel, have you ever known me to lie?"

Dan shakes his head. "Of course not."

"Then you'll believe me when I say," Lucifer tells him, "that I will love you as long as you'll have me."

Dan's not gonna cry at Ella's birthday—seriously. He clears his throat instead and says, "Then buckle up, buddy."

Luce beams at him, something exasperated and delighted in the curve of his smile. 

The song fades out into something a little raunchier— _ Slave _ by Britney Spears, Dan realizes, when the vocals kick in.

Lucifer goes to move away, but Dan catches him by the wrist. His heart is in his throat, but he looks around, and honestly—

Chloe is laughing maybe ten feet away, hands held up awkwardly in the air while Maze grinds on her from behind and Ella sandwiches her in from the other side. 

Maze must've gotten here late—maybe with Amenadiel, who's chatting up Linda at the bar, a few seats over from where Fitzsimmons is definitely making out with her girlfriend.

And Dan—

It's not that he doesn't care anymore. It's that he's the happiest he ever fucking been, and he thinks he's maybe only 30% asshole these days, and the way Lucifer looks at him when he raises an eyebrow is better than any of it.

Luce asks, "Are you sure?" but he slides his hands onto Dan's hips when Dan winds his arms around Lucifer's neck and pulls him in.

"Yeah," Dan breathes, nudging his nose against Lucifer's cheek, and, fuck. It feels so good to grind against him, to have the music reverbing up his spine and into the places they touch like an echo chamber.

Lucifer nips at Dan's ear and then sinks to the ground with the beat, his nose brushing against Dan's stomach on the way back up and rucking up his shirt. His thumbs press into Dan's hipbones.

Someone wolf-whistles. Dan laughs and fists a hand into Lucifer's hair, dragging him into a kiss, and Ella shouts,  _ "Get it, Dan!"  _ from what must be a different universe.

Luce hums into Dan's mouth, biting down. He slips a hand into his back pocket. It's all that feels real.

A few songs later, Ella taps them both on the shoulder.

"Hey, Luci," she says, smiling knowingly. "You mind if I borrow your not-so-secret lover?"

Lucifer smiles lopsidedly back. "Provided you return him by night's end. I've got plans for him you've already delayed once, Miss Lopez."

Dan shudders with anticipation. He lets Luce drift away towards Maze and Linda, though—they've got time.

Ella tilts her head in offering, and Dan rests his hand on her waist as they start to dance. She's pulling him into a salsa, which he hasn't done in over a literal decade, since college—he tries not to step on her feet.

"So," she says, reaching up to talk in his ear. "A lot of stuff makes sense now."

Dan huffs out a laugh. "Uh, yeah?"

"Sorry for being all heteronormative on you," Ella says. "But in my defense, Decker  _ definitely  _ told me you were straight."

Dan spins her around to buy himself time, leaning back to avoid getting whipped by her hair. Then, he jokes, "In  _ her  _ defense, I thought I was."

Ella stops dancing suddenly, scuffing their shoes together, and yanks him into a crushing hug.

"I love you so much, buddy." She presses her cheek into his neck. "Both of you. You know that, right?"

Dan squeezes his eyes shut. "Yeah," he says, "I do."

She leans back again, smiling warmly. "How'd you two get together, anyway?"

"Uh," says Dan. "Do you remember the pudding thing?"

"No way, the  _ pudding thing?"  _ Ella asks. She laughs directly in Dan's face. "Dan, that's so lame!"

Dan shrugs, pretty sure he's smiling like an idiot. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Yeah," Ella agrees. "It sure did."

They both turn at a peal of laughter that echoes from over by the bar; Lucifer's brought the maraschino cherries back out, and from the looks of it, he and Maze are trying to teach Linda and Amenadiel how to do that trick where you tie the stem into a knot with your tongue.

"So," Ella asks, hitting Dan with a disturbingly Lucifer-esque eyebrow waggle. "What's the sex like?"

Dan spins her around again.

~*~

"Daniel," Lucifer says, later that night. They're curled up in a booth, Dan half in Luce's lap, kissing softly while their friends snore quietly, draped on the couches around them. They probably won't get to the ravishing tonight, but that's okay.

Dan thumbs at his bottom lip and murmurs, "Yeah?"

"Ask me if I'm happy."

Dan leans back to look at him, cupping his jaw, smiling with something gentle underneath. "Are you happy, Luce?"

The music is turned way down low, featuring 90's jams from Chloe's phone now that the DJ has gone home. Lucifer leans his cheek into Dan's palm, his eyes warm and dark and so fucking human in the low light—like he's never been anything else that matters.

He presses the answer into Dan's mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still expecting this to be endgame Luci/Dan/Chloe?? Tbd, but I do love a good ot3.
> 
> I'm a filthy multishipper and I'd die for Dr. Linda, so please come scream with me about anything and everything related to Lucifer [on my Tumblr <3 ](http://www.yoursummerfrost.tumblr.com)


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